


Binded

by lucymorningstar257



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Demons, F/M, Master/Servant, Priestesses, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 77,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymorningstar257/pseuds/lucymorningstar257
Summary: Kagome, now a modern-day miko, discovers Sesshoumaru's spirit during an exorcism. Desperate for answers to her inconclusive past, she binds his soul to hers—a decision that inevitably leads to catastrophic consequences. [editing in progress]
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru, Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 93





	1. Arc I: A Miko with a Peculiar Housemate

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was previously posted here at 40+ chapters long, but was removed when I decided to take a break from the writing scene. Since then I've had many readers requesting for it, even in its incomplete glory. I'm slowly editing the chapters for prose and grammar, and chopping a lot of segments, and whole chapters even, to have a more rounded dark feel. I'm sorry if you may have noticed that one or two of your favourite fluff scenes are gone.
> 
> For new readers, don't be fooled by the initial comedic, slice-of-life chapters. There is a large amount of foreshadowing before things take a heavy turn in the second half.
> 
> Henceforth I will only update here on a03, on sporadic occasions. 
> 
> I'm honestly praying that I will this finish this fic one day. Thank you everyone who supported me!

# 

# B I N D E D

Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and its respective owners.

Check out the lovely fanart from RannyYunny who's an amazing artist! Take a look at her other works too! <https://rannyunny.tumblr.com/post/173852194660/fanfiction-fanart-binded-by-lucy-morningstar>

# Arc I: A Miko with a Peculiar Housemate

The _Hatsumode_ period had seen more visitors than usual, huge crowds decked out in their vibrant new-year clothes, praying for a fresh stroke of good luck. As a _miko_ now serving in the Yukino Shrine, Kagome Higurashi was elbows deep in her duties, as she scurried around to serve the guests in any way possible. There was never a time to dally. Kagome could not remember the many times she demonstrated the purification ritual upon entry, or the continuous amount of _omamori_ charms she dispensed from the souvenir shop.

Thank god she had Amari Kirihata, another fellow miko two years her junior. Sweet-faced and patient, and usually poised at the fortune-telling station, she would bestow each incoming group of visitors with a typical list of dos and don'ts within the shrine.

The hours rushed through. Everyone congregated around the large fire when the shrine began burning old good-luck charms, the townsfolk tossing in other aged sacred items of their own. _Out with the old, in with the new._ Dusk had settled before they knew it. As Amari was bidding farewell to the last of their guests, Kagome joined her from behind.

"My, today was one heck of a field day, wasn't it?" Kagome blew an exhausted breath as she soothed an aching shoulder. "Have you seen such a _deluge_ of visitors before?”

Amari covered her laughter. Her short bob-cut swayed every time she laughed. She was either bashful or flustered at any time and her mannerisms only heightened her appeal. Kagome thought she was the sweetest girl she had ever met. She admired Amari for her gentle patience, and her high tolerance towards even the most asinine of personalities—qualities Kagome seemed to have lost over time.

"Yes, I was extremely overwhelmed! Especially the foreigners, they couldn't understand a single word I said."

"But you know Amari-chan, Yukino-jingu is only but a small shrine. You should see the other ones, like Nezu and Meiji. I bet they are still packed as we speak."

"You must have had a lot of experience being a _miko_ , Kagome-sama. After all you served here longer than me."

"Not really. And didn’t I tell you to lay off the honorifics? Just Kagome-chan will do!"

Amari laughed again and Kagome relaxed, as she faced towards the cold, darkening sky. Slowly they prepared the shrine to close for the day and began sweeping the heaping snow on entrance grounds. Kagome wiped the perspiration off her forehead. It was still winter although they had seen lesser snowfall in that part of town in recent years. Her back internally groaned when she did a stretch. She was more tired than she wanted to admit.

"As much as New Year’s a blessing, I really wasn’t looking forward to it all," she griped. "What do you think, eh? The shrine seriously should have considered bringing in an extra headcount, knowing how hectic it would be. Now, if _I_ was management—"

Amari clutched her rake hard, darting her eyes to her friend. "Shush, don’t let the priest hear you!”

"Oh, to the hell with him. But speak of the devil,” Kagome whispered, as she turned her head, “there he is, watching us from behind."

Narumi Jyohaku, the head priest of Yukino Shrine stood quietly at the dark entrance hall, his tall _kammuri_ hat accentuating his already impressive height. And was that a scrutinizing glare thrown towards them? The two women quickly ended their chit-chat, heaving their rakes with gusto.

"Well that's that! I'm calling it a day after this. Maybe a short stop to the nearby Family Mart. Are you walking home with me, Amari-chan?"

Amari glanced over her shoulder with a forlorn look.

"I'll guess I'll wait first for Jyohaku-sama."

"Alrighty then. I'll see you tomorrow. Ah—and a happy new year to you, Amari-chan!"

"Happy new year, Kagome-sama!"

Kagome stopped before her door, her bags of groceries hanging heavily from her forearms. She flipped through the contents of her handbag for her house keys. Nope, can’t find them through the trash. And why did she even bother bringing that set of cosmetics knowing she would never use it?

Soon the last remnants of her patience completely disappeared. Tossing the grocery bags onto the floor, Kagome belted out a colourful string of curses as she ransacked her bag.

"I'm home," she muttered morosely once inside. She walked straight into the kitchen to lay down her marketing, passing by the living room where a strange male figure sat.

He had a peculiar face. A pair of almond-shaped eyes with irises of bright gold, but not necessarily of a warm hue—in fact they invoked a bone-deep chill in the person observing them. His cheeks were high-set, embellished by sweeping magenta markings and eyelids tinted in the same shade. A magnificent mane crowned his head, moonlight in its colour and lustrous in its shine, their long strands pooling to the floor.

His face was peculiar, but beautiful in a disconcerting way. There was something otherworldly about his features, something in his aura that was not quite tethered to the earth. Surely such an unnatural being could only be a borrowed presence in this world. The only natural thing about this curious-looking creature was the way he was sitting enraptured before the television, watching a Japanese dubbed version of _High School Musical._

Kagome’s nose twitched. Having sorted the groceries out, she strode to the dining area and lifted the dish-cover on the table. A fragrant rice bowl of _tempura donburi_ awaited her, alongside a bowl of _miso_ soup and some fresh salad.

Her fatigue instantly melted. Nothing beats a steaming bowl of rice after a particular hard day at work!

 _"Itadakimasu!"_ She scarfed down her food like a ravenous glutton who had been starving for days.

Then, as if she had just remembered something, Kagome threw a glance to the living-room. Her sight was fixed on her mysterious guest, the one she had been sharing her house with for the last few months. Guess she could safely call him her _housemate_ now. Only his long hair trailing down his back could be seen, his face turned away, his rigid figure still glued to the same spot since she had been home.

 _This guy...or demon or ghost or whatever,_ Kagome surmised to herself, _is seriously a hardcore TV addict._

An hour later the credits began to roll. _High School Musical_ was over, but there was no hint of disappointment—or any other emotion for that matter—on the stranger’s face. Quietly he stood up and stepped into the kitchen, flipping his long hair over his shoulder. Centuries might have passed but his hair still shone like silk, perpetually glorious.

For this Sesshoumaru, at least.

Something caught his attention. He turned for the dining area. The table still bore Kagome's empty dishes, bits of rice and crispy batter decorating the tabletop generously. Sesshoumaru's jaw tensed.

Humming an old Do As Infinity song, Kagome exited from the shower smelling of lavender soap. She affected a quick pirouette in her room, feeling fresh and light whilst pretending to be a ballerina, then regretted quickly in the cold. She laid a pair of satin pajamas on the bed. Then she unfurled her towel from her body. At that precise moment, her bedroom door yanked open violently.

"The dirty dishes," Sesshoumaru said.

_"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"_

A bloodcurdling scream and a toss of her pillow later, a dressed Kagome sat on her desk and filched out a book from her drawers. Its covers were of soft mauve velvet, the word "Diary" inscribed on it in cursive, ostentatious letters. Perhaps it was too childish to belong to a 25 year-old woman. But Kagome secretly relished its feel, as she flipped through and breathed in its scented pages. She set down to write.

_01 Jan 20XX_

_Happy new year! As tradition dictates, it's time to write resolutions! Let's see what I've written for last year._

  1. _Lose weight_
  2. _Get a bloody boyfriend_
  3. _Visit Europe_



_For the record, I've gained five extra pounds over Christmas. I'm still single the last time I checked, AND I'm severely underpaid as an apprentice at Yukino Shrine. So spare me the agony of talking about a vacation to Europe, when I can’t even afford a trip to Hokkaido! (I’m screaming internally as I write this)_

_On a more serious note, it's been three months. Three exact months since I've had him staying at my house. Sesshoumaru. Even now it feels strange to say or even write down his name. I'm still unsure how to approach him. All the millions of questions I've collected and prepared in my head just poofs into smoke the moment I see him._

_Questions...all about the past. About the feudal era I left behind. And most importantly all my old friends..._

... _and that one person._

_I guess that's the only reason I performed the after-ritual on Sesshoumaru. I KNOW—it’s forbidden to pray to a dark god like Inugami and I’ll probably regret it later (probably) but I’m so insanely curious. I need to know. The only thing I ever wanted was to sit down and talk to him. But to his physical body, you know. Not to a diaphanous, wavering spirit._

_Ugh_ , _Jyohaku would blow his top if he knew—the stupid priest can’t stop harping to me every day since the exorcism._ _That's right, I still haven't fully explained the details in my diary._

_It's a long story, but I promise to write down everything when I have time._

Kagome glanced at the clock. It was ticking close to 11PM.

"You know for a demon, you watch _way_ too much TV," Kagome said behind Sesshoumaru, munching on a yogurt bar. Said demon did not flinch from the television. His ears were still ringing from her blood-curdling scream.

"It is my only connection to the outside world," Sesshoumaru stated matter-of-factly, his eyes attached to the screen. "Until I have gained my strength, this is the only way I can learn what kind of topsy-turvy place this world has altered into, for the last few hundred years."

Kagome hummed in thought. "You're right, in a way. Everything is topsy-turvy if you're comparing it that old era you were from. But really, the media is like the worst place for you to learn. Especially this movie. _Titanic_. Hollywood is a complete bluff. You gotta take everything you see with a pinch of salt."

She turned to leave for bed, then remembered something.

"Oh, thanks for dinner, by the way. I'm seriously impressed. Looks like those cookbooks I gave you really brought forth a budding chef, eh?"

She laughed to herself as she walked away.

Sesshoumaru reclined his back and gave a light snort. He hoped she did not assume he was doing it for her. No, he was just bored and was tinkering around the house as usual, and his homely adventures usually found him steeped in household chores. After all there were so many things to do—the _miko_ lived in a pigsty that required constant maintenance. That and watching an unhealthy dose of Hollywood movies, which, as stupendous as they appeared, intrigued him to no end. Call it a cultural study if one would: a quiet (and shocking) evaluation of the modern society he had woken up into.

On the screen Rose floated on a wooden board in the middle of the freezing North Atlantic Ocean, telling her lover Jack not to let go. A much perplexing scene for him to grasp. The way humans acted when possessed by their emotions was always beyond him. That lone emotion, or rather, that _compulsion_ called love would encompass everything in their daily lives. Even the woman he was living with now, had she not once too shared a similar sentiment with his...

Sesshoumaru shuddered to even remember.

* * *

Kagome's eyes opened groggily in the morning. A sleeping face materialized beside hers, hovering, so pale it was almost translucent. Such beautiful dark eyelashes. Long and fluttering, like the giraffe she had seen in the zoo when she was a child. And what strange markings on its face...a blue crescent moon on the forehead and...

Kagome sprang up from the futon and staggered backwards, her hand cupped over her mouth. Why was Sesshoumaru sleeping beside her? And he was curled up like a baby too! She tried her darndest to stifle her scream.

It had been too long. Ten years to be exact, just long enough to make her forget who Sesshoumaru really was. His existence served like a fleeting phantom from her blurry past, one that she sought hard to re-connect. There were a few bits and pieces that came around however—Sesshoumaru was some sort of lord among his demonkind, and not exactly the friendly type in her memory. But the most important fact that she had established from him was that he had been a blood-relation to _that person._

She observed the long tresses of his shimmering hair cascading down his head. Kagome's hand reached forward and allowed his hair to slip through her fingers.

Delicate. And _real_. Sesshoumaru's breath hitched.

"Cold," he murmured in his sleep, his voice deep and disturbed.

Cold? Kagome’s own breath hitched as well. She could feel him. And he could feel himself. The after-ritual was a definite success. Sesshoumaru was no longer a haunting spirit.

She bit back her excitement. She would celebrate later. But the poor thing. He must have laid next to her, unused to his new body, seeking for warmth.

Kagome rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The sunlight had creeped in through the curtains, casting bright lines on the walls. It was time to get ready for work. She thought of the shrine and how it was going to see another _deluge_ of visitors that day. Sighing, she pulled her blanket off her and covered Sesshoumaru with it.

_To be continued…_


	2. Living with the Supernatural

#  **Living with the Supernatural**

"…what do you think, Kagome-sama?”

Kagome pulled out from her daze and found herself staring at Amari, who was throwing her a questioning smile. She remembered the younger _miko_ had been talking about vacation trips, about places in her bucket list. What exactly was the question posed to her though?

It felt like she had been sleeping with her eyes open, while assembling prayer beads together with her partner. There had been nothing but a static roar playing at the back of her mind while her fingers moved in auto-pilot.

 _I need to stop this_ , Kagome mentally scolded herself, looking at the rosary in her hand, mismatched coloured beads strung together. _Get a grip on yourself._ She ducked her head and clapped her hands together in apology.

"Amari-chan, would you mind repeating yourself? Ah, I've been really feeling under the weather lately."

Amari giggled. "You know, it's not just today. I've noticed you've been kinda out of it for these past few months."

Kagome's eyes widened as she leaned forward. "What? For the past few months? That's stretching it a little."

"Haven't you looked at the mirror lately? You look like a raccoon." Then Amari changed her tone and quickly added, "But a _cute_ raccoon!"

"There's nothing admirable about looking like a raccoon!" a booming voice suddenly snapped from behind.

Both women jolted in response at the abrupt appearance of the head priest into the room. Amari looked especially red in the face, peering discreetly as he loomed behind Kagome.

"I'll—I'll go get more beads from the storeroom!" Amari blurted, dashing out. Kagome muttered under her breath before turning to acknowledge the priest.

Standing ramrod-straight at more than six foot, Jyohaku looked more like a seasoned warlord than a shrine head. His hands clasped behind his straight back, his chest puffed out. As usual the corners of his mouth were downturned as if everything around him constantly displeased him.

The stiff layers of _jōe_ and his _kammuri_ hat he had worn during the new year had disappeared now that the season was over, replaced by softer, well-worn robes. Kagome gave him a perfunctory bow before returning to her seat. He folded his arms tightly in response.

"Do you know why you're always tired nowadays?" he asked testily.

Great, Kagome thought. So he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Amari. Well, one lengthy lecture coming right up.

"It's just some lack of sleep," she replied casually. She patted her shoulder with a fist. "Maybe a trip to an _onsen_ sounds like a good vacation! Ah, if only I was granted with enough leave days!"

"Insolent!" Jyohaku’s hand suddenly slammed onto the table, the prayer beads rattling before they bounced from the table edge.

"Hey!" Kagome yelped as she tried to catch them. She flashed an angry look at him—just _who_ was the insolent one here?

She remembered the first time she laid her eyes on Jyohaku. Most priests she met wore a gentle, reassuring demeanour, but not the new head of Yukino-jingu. The man was like a hawk. He moved with an air of intimidation, with a presence so overbearing that you knew he was in the same room without looking. Working closely with him for the last three years however, not only was Kagome the only apprentice to persevere the longest through his harsh discipline, she discovered his tough appearance was only a front.

"Lack of sleep? Are you fooling me? Let me tell you why you’re tired—it's because of that _ghost_ you sired," Jyohaku hissed, his eyes narrowed like stilts. The word "ghost" seemed to taste like bile in his mouth. "I'm still in utter disbelief, to this very day, that you brought back that bloody spirit into your house. And you're still keeping mum over your actions. Do you know what happens when you mess with these supernatural beings?"

"Amari-chan's taking a super long time, isn’t she? Jyohaku-sama, instead of warbling at your spot, why don't you grab a chair and help me with the rosaries?"

"Sometimes I don't know what is in that little head of yours," Jyohaku continued, picking the beads off the floor. He sat down and his fingers began stringing the beads together in quick, deft motions. "By now you must already have felt the consequences. These things feed and thrive on your life force, and once they're attached to you, _they’ll never let go_."

Attached to me? Kagome smirked, choosing a black bead. That guy only knows how to watch television. That, plus he’s really adept at housework. Besides Sesshoumaru's not a spirit anymore. He’s turned into _a real person_.

With the thought in mind, she curbed her smile at Jyohaku even as he fixed her with a hard glare.

* * *

Kagome took the fruit knife and in one swift move, swiped its blade against her index finger. A cut appeared and a drop of blood slowly took form. It trickled into a bowl of murky water that was infused with bone powder, dirt, sandalwood and lime, a dash of frankincense among other things.

She carried the bowl carefully to the kitchen exit and called out to Sesshoumaru, who was transfixed with an episode of _Ripley's Believe It or Not_.

"Sesshoumaru! You've been watching the telly when I woke up this morning, and you're still at it. Don't you feel hungry?"

He did not budge from his spot. Kagome felt her blood steadily rise to her face. So the Loch Ness monster is apparently more interesting, eh?

"Sesshoumaru, get your ass here for dinner right now!"

They entered a dimly-lit room. At the corner stood a red praying altar. A pair of candles in glasses lit from each side. Kagome placed the bowl between the candles, before proceeding to burn some joss-sticks. She waved them about, dispelling the first wisps of smoke before placing them in a holder behind a small urn. Her hands clasped in prayer, she then chanted a mantra, her lips whispering unintelligible words.

She did this ritual each time she needed to feed him, and she would do so around two times each week. Even though he had a body now, he was still neither human nor spirit, and did not require actual food for his sustenance. Kagome took a few steps back, giving Sesshoumaru some space.

"Bon appétit," she said.

Sesshoumaru touched the bowl with both hands.

"… _Bon appétit_ ," he repeated after her, enunciating each foreign syllable carefully as they rolled off his tongue.

Kagome nodded. "Yes, it's like when we say “ _itadakimasu_.” But in French."

"French?"

"It’s another language. Like English or Chinese. Why don't you start drinking now, Sesshoumaru?" Kagome urged, and he could detect a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"I know what it means. I interpret words through their intent, and not from the way they are shaped."

Sesshoumaru tipped the bowl to his mouth. The shadows from the candlelight waved gently on the walls in the semi-dark room. Kagome tapped her foot, then started to pace around, her hands clasped behind her back.

"So Sesshoumaru," she started, but not before clearing her voice to cough, "I actually have some questions I've been meaning to ask and…" She swiped her hair behind her ear, feeling nervous.

 _This is it_ , she thought. _This is where I dig in him for answers. I need to know the truth._

"I want to know what happened to my friends back in the feudal era. More specifically, to your half-brother Inuyasha…"

She heard a sound akin to someone choking on his food. When Kagome looked up, she saw a pair of bright, dancing eyes, its colour almost mimicking the candlelight.

" _Inuyasha_? I have not heard of that name in a..." Sesshoumaru’s voice trailed off and he shook his head slowly. "In a supremely long time."

"Well, what do you remember?" She looked into his face. "The last time you saw him—what was he doing?"

"No," he said.

"No?"

"No, I cannot tell you."

A wave of disbelief fell over her. "What? _Why_?"

"Because this Sesshoumaru is unable to remember."

There was something about the casual air in his tone, his indifferent attitude towards the whole subject. It probably meant nothing to him, some old, obscure memory at the back of his mind. But it was everything to Kagome. This was the closest she could get in receiving closure about her inconclusive past. The past that shut its door cruelly to her face. To abandon everything without ever seeing her comrades ever again, without hearing their voices, without knowing what happened to them…

Did they lead happy, meaningful lives? Did they still remember her onwards? Did Inuyasha—

Something thick rose in her throat and when Kagome spoke again, her voice was wavering and the pits of her stomach felt sick.

"That's enough," she said, grabbing the bowl away. He stared at her in silent puzzlement.

"Has my answer irked you?” he asked as she was leaving the room. "Yes, it has. I can sense it."

"Doesn't take a genius to guess that."

Kagome pulled the sliding door until it covered half her face.

"You're not to leave this room until you decide to tell me everything. Understand? And no more meals for you."

The door shut with a loud thud. Perhaps it could be louder if she intended. Sesshoumaru gazed around the dim candle-lit room. Like the whole house it had been nothing but a rat’s nest, holding a large bookshelf, some old furniture and many dusty boxes—things Kagome had referred to as junk. Alas she had forbidden him to dispose of them. They belonged to the previous owner of the house, she said, an old _miko_ who no longer lived in this world. The books had been interesting, some collection of classic poems and literary fiction, although he did not bother with the religious texts. He had placed Kagome's cookbooks in the same shelf too, the ones she had given him.

The short curtains floated softly as a chilly draught filtered in. It was no longer snowing in Tokyo but the coldness would still creep and seep in through his feet and into the bones of his spine. Sesshoumaru sat down by a wall and contemplated what she had said. About needing to tell her "everything."

"I cannot tell you," he repeated his words to no one in particular, his voice in a hollow echo. "Not when everything feels like a frozen block of ice."

Kagome stood before the bathroom mirror. She washed her face, wincing from the cold water.

God, she thought, squeezing her cheeks. I really need to calm myself down. It's not like it's his fault he doesn't remember. But for how long?

_And what if he doesn’t ever remember? What’s the point of everything then?_

She patted her face dry with a towel. Her dark eyes peered back on her reflection in the mirror.

"I absolutely do not look like a raccoon."

A few minutes later, the door slid open softly. Kagome's head peeked in, her disconsolate face illuminated by the red hue from the candlelight. She saw Sesshoumaru crouching at the corner of the room and instantly felt horrible of herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to be impatient. It's just that I got overly excited. Especially when I saw you again at that bridge. I think maybe, just maybe, you've been a ghost for a long time."

Sesshoumaru said nothing.

"I won't ask you again until you're ready. I promise."

"Wait," he spoke again. Swiftly she opened the door wider, the candle flames shining in her eyes.

Sesshoumaru came forward. He peered at her from behind the door, his eyes strangely round and pleading, and for a quick moment Kagome was suddenly reminded of how he used to be, after all, a _dog_ demon.

"I want my bowl back."

Peeved, she shut the door in his face.

_Wait for the next chapter!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Hola, welcome to the end of the 2nd chapter! Thanks for making your time to read! Just a short commentary on this fic. I live in Southeast Asia where belief in the supernatural is very strong, even in these modern times. Siring spirits for one's gain, whether for wealth or getting extra help in scoring that one chick, although a hushed taboo, is still commonplace. It’s considered black magic, and although I wouldn't push it so much as to say Kagome's practising it, even though she is on a subtle level, it somewhat sets the background for this story.
> 
> Kagome is kinda angsty here. Although she hasn't explained how and why yet—we're aware one of the reasons she has Sesshoumaru with her is so she can get answers. So he pretty much fails in his purpose here. LOL
> 
> Sesshoumaru is decidedly air-headed and mellow at the start of the story. As Kagome mentioned, he's probably been a ghost for a long time and needs some time adapting, but how did our fearsome, invincible demon lord become a ghost in the first place? I guess you just gotta stick to the story. Huahuahua…


	3. Pancakes

_Lady Luck never smiles_ _  
_ _So lend your love to me, awhile_ _  
_ _Do with me what you will_ _  
_ _Break the spell take your fill_   
\- **Foolin',** Def Leppard

#  **Pancakes**

A low moan drew out from Kagome. Her chest heaved a deep sigh. She rolled over in her futon, her sleeping face meeting his.

Sesshoumaru watched beside her carefully. A tiny stream of drool was trickling from the corner of her mouth and his hand twitched. He was severely tempted to wipe it off.

"Hmmm," another sound emerged again from her lips. " _Pan_ … _Pan_ … _keki_..."

Sesshoumaru lifted his head, his elfin ears perking. _Pan-keki?_ Could it be… _Pancakes_ ? The _miko_ to whom his spirit was fused to, whose blood he sought for his only nourishment, and the one he had risked a second chance with in order to live again, wanted pancakes?

" _Thick…fluffy_ … _pankeki_ …"

He trained his ear closer to make sure he was hearing her right. Suddenly there came a great "Unf!" and her hand swatted violently across his face. Sesshoumaru swore —and he rarely swore about anything throughout his life— that he felt an electrifying surge of _reiki_ shoot from under her touch.

Kagome woke up slowly, just in time to see Sesshoumaru's white figure on the floor backing away from her. His petrified body was lunged away, his constricted eyes fixated on her, shocked, hurt even, like a dog whose tail had been stepped upon by its own master. It had been a disturbing sight to wake up to but later on while eating breakfast, Kagome recalled it had been somewhat comical, to think of it.

Her mind still steeped in post-sleep fogginess, she wondered what had overcome him.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Sesshoumaru did not answer, his hand still glued to his cheek.

Kagome narrowed her eyes over his strange behaviour in the early morning. Then her face softened as she remembered something.

"You know it's already mid-spring," she said more kindly this time. "Is the cold still getting to you?”

At last a subtle shift ran through his features. He seemed to frown as he gathered himself on his feet and stood up.

"Who said I was cold?"

With a slightly raised eyebrow, Kagome watched as he left for the door. She was all alone in her room now, just as the sun's soft rays were filtering in through the window, warming her thick blanket. Someone's definitely cranky in the morning, she thought as she tossed in bed, and slowly fell back into a dreamless sleep. When she woke up again the sun was almost high up in the blue sky, but it was her off day from work so it did not really matter. What mattered was that the house was filled with an unmistakable aroma of pancakes.

"Morning. Ah, I mean afternoon," Kagome greeted as she stepped into her kitchen, stretching out a few kinks in her back. She bent over the hot stove open-mouthed, as Sesshoumaru poured a ladleful of batter into the saucepan. The edges of the milky mixture hissed and bubbled into a brown crispiness.

"This is weird. I don't remember any pancake recipes in the cookbooks I gave you. And look! You're wearing the pink Hello Kitty apron I bought for you! Dang, it fits you to a T—looks even better on you than I imagined."

Sesshoumaru gave her the side eye. She had displayed the apron one day and with a strange giggle, succinctly mentioned it was for him. Of _course_ he would wear it. Why was she filled with so much glee over him wearing a particular piece of clothing?

He had been staying with her for a considerable amount of time and her mood shifts were still beyond his comprehension. One minute she would be yelling her head off to "bloody switch off the telly before I really pull the plug on you", and the next moment she would be gushing over how clean the bathroom sparkled—"just like a five-star hotel." Sesshoumaru had no idea what a five-star hotel was, but she was appreciative of his work, that bit he could understand.

He observed as Kagome walked towards the coffee machine to make herself a cup of—macchiato, he was going to guess, and indeed she pressed the button for it— and then she turned and pressed her back against the curved edge of the countertop.

"No need for cookbooks," he then told her, as he scraped the edges of the forming pancake with a spatula. "When required, I am able to tap into any branch of knowledge there is from the four corners of the world."

Kagome blew on her cup and sipped from it. "For real? But the world doesn’t have four corners, you know."

Sesshoumaru looked at her. "It does not?"

"But I guess it did occur to me that you've never actually held a spatula before in your life, or use a washing machine." She sat down at the kitchen table and suddenly let out a sigh in the most dejected manner possible. " _Buuuuut_ what's the point if you can't even summon your own memories when you need it?"

Sesshoumaru flipped the pancake.

"You require me to remember paltry incidences that hold absolutely no value whatsoever."

"Paltry? No value? Those moments were the best times of my life! Look at me now, I’m twenty-five and barely going anywhere!”

Sesshoumaru shrugged, and Kagome cupped her chin into her hand. What does _he_ know about struggling in your mid-twenties? She stared at a blank spot on the robin-egg blue wall over the counter, at the space between her rice cooker and electric kettle. For a while no one spoke, as the air sizzled and wafted with that warm, comforting fragrance.

"But you remembered me, didn't you?" Kagome finally asked. She did not like the way the question had formed when it left her. It was not in her own voice. As if it was someone else who was concerned. Someone else who wanted to know if Sesshoumaru had accepted her on a whim, and she had been nothing but a complete stranger to his eyes on that fateful day.

"The tale of the _gaikoku no miko_ ," Sesshoumaru spoke at last, as he topped up another layer to his rising stack of pancakes. He glanced at her over his shoulder, swiftly catching her eyes in attention and held her there.

"After your mysterious disappearance following Naraku's defeat, you became quite a figure of myth. The birds were singing and the crickets chirped, along with the wind, spinning tales of a _miko_ from another world sent by the gods to vanquish a great evil."

A bottle of maple syrup appeared from nowhere in his hand and he squeezed it. The thick liquid oozed over the pancakes. It dripped over the edges of the pancake tower, slowly in sweet, cloying indulgence. He sprayed some cream from a can. He topped two halves of a strawberry. "But the details had been nothing but outlandish. In one version you were supposedly twenty feet tall and stooped like a crane. Yes, I remember you quite a bit."

Kagome shot up from her chair. "You mean I became a legend in the feudal era?! Me, sweet ole Kagome Higurashi?”

" _Myth_. Not many have actually seen you. This Sesshoumaru did, and he dismissed the tales as hogwash."

"No Sesshoumaru, tell me more!" Kagome scrambled over to him, tugging his apron front. He backed away against the counter, warily reminded of the sharp spike of _reiki_ her touch had rewarded him this morning.

"Come on, don’t leave me on a lurch! Did they say I was from the future? That I crept out from the well like Sadako? That I could shoot magical arrows from my bow despite no training whatsoever?"

A frown knitted between Sesshoumaru’s eyebrows. "No longer about your comrades now, is it?"

"Please tell me! Sesshoumaru!"

He managed to worm away, grabbing the plate quickly and setting it down on the table.

"Eat first," he said.

Kagome landed back on her chair, pouting as she grabbed her fork. Sullenly she tucked into her thick and fluffy breakfast, just like the way she had dreamed of it, except that the dream was now lost on her.

" _Itadakimasu,_ " she muttered, like a child denied of her toys.

Sesshoumaru sat across her. He mimicked her earlier pose, hand propped on his chin, and studied the _miko_ as she chewed through her food.

Yes, if there was something that his heart was certain, and his heart was no longer with him but buried in the deep layers of the murky swamp, it was that nothing pleased him more than to see her eat, and he could sit for hours if needed to, just watching her, just watching her eat a stack of pancakes.

“Hey, it has some crunchy bacon bits in it! Where did that come from?”

“Hush. ‘Tis a secret recipe of mine.”

A corner of his lips pulled, subtle as a feather and it felt like he had finally understood the meaning of his new existence, sitting in Kagome's warm kitchen, in a new Hello Kitty apron…

"Bon appétit _,_ " Sesshoumaru said, and suddenly those words did not sound so foreign anymore.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Gaikoku no Miko: basically means foreign priestess. And how I wish in hell I could wake up to someone flipping pancakes for me… *cries in silence]
> 
> Credits: Foolin' lyrics Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG  
> RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC


	4. I Just Wanted to Feel the Wind in My Hair

#  **I Just Wanted to Feel the Wind in My Hair**

"Kagome-sama, do you have someone in your life? Like a boyfriend, maybe?"

Kagome tore the packet of fish food and sprinkled it into the _koi_ pond. Both she and Amari were kneeling at its edge, feeding the _koi_ and checking on its water quality as part of their shrine duties.

The horde of fishes swarmed forward and started jostling for the pellets floating on the surface, their gaping mouths gobbling as much food as they could muster. A pair of golden koi swam at a quieter part of the pond, eating whatever had drifted to them. They were the largest and the oldest fish in the lot, and had always been paired up with each other for as long as she remembered.

"Boyfriend?" Kagome spoke, addressing Amari's earlier question. She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Is there even someone who's interested in me?"

Amari sprinkled more of the fish food. "There's no need to be humble about it you know."

Kagome cringed inwardly as she thought of her dating history. She had even tried to hook up with Hojo a few years ago, but he had turned out to be a pompous law graduate who could not stop discussing on politics.

"Well, I have been seeing a couple of guys for the last few years, but it doesn't seem to work out at the end of the day. So I've just decided to remain single and happy for the time being. Maybe I’m just better off that way, you know."

Yeah right, her thoughts prodded her. Isn't getting a new boyfriend like your constant new-year resolution?

Amari peered at her with her large eyes. "I'm not trying to be a busy-body or anything. I'm just asking because…well…"

"What, Amari-chan?"

“Well I have an older brother who’s been single for a long time, and our parents have been really pushing him to get married…”

"Woah, hold on. And you think I'm a good candidate?"

Amari laughed. "Why not? You're like a sister to me. Of course I would want someone like you as my sister-in-law!"

Kagome waved her hands in horror. It was not the idea of being related to Amari that scared her, but having to be match-made with a guy who had to get married—that was something else entirely. She was not that desperate to tie the knot anytime soon.

"Oh you’re a real kidder, aren’t you! How about you, Amari-chan? Surely someone cute as you must be attached."

Amari’s forlorn reflection casted on the rippling green water.

"There's someone I like, but he doesn't even look twice my way."

"Ah, that's sad. Unrequited love is always sad."

"Have you ever been in that horrible situation before, Kagome-sama?"

"Horrible situation?" a voice coarser than a grater spoke behind them, interrupting their outpouring of woes. "What horrible situation?"

Amari and Kagome stiffened at the sudden male presence. They peeked over their shoulders only to meet the sharp, hawk-like gaze of the head priest. Why? Why was he always barging in when they were taking a quick break?

"J-J-Jyohaku-sama!" Amari-chan squeaked, her hands fluttering like a pair of birds each time she bumped into him—or was it the other way round?

"Well?" Jyohaku pressed. "I heard there was a horrible situation. If something’s happening within the shrine, then I must know—"

"Not within the shrine," Kagome mumbled. "But within our love lives."

Jyohaku glared at her, then turned to Amari whose shoulders were shaking in silence.

"I’m not surprised if it’s Higurashi having problems, what with her many unpleasant ways, but surely not you too, Kirihata?”

Amari gaped at him. Why would Jyohaku suddenly be interested to know about her personal life? The head priest _never_ took any concern with her and…

Jyohaku's eyebrows lowered, making his grim face even darker. "Why is your face all beet red? Are you having an allergic reaction to something?"

"It's red?” Amari was flustering now, her arms flailing to cover her face. “Like I'm blushing? Ah—but I'm not really blushing, and I’m only allergic to cats—"

Kagome made a mental note. _One’s a bundle of nerves, and the other’s as thick as a brick._

Her line of sight absent-mindedly strayed to the hedged fence built around Yukino-jingu's premises. There was a shuffle of white against the green leaves, as though a person was peering in from outside. Kagome squinted in half-disbelief, hoping she was wrong, that perhaps it was her imagination—she did not want to deal with any funny business at this time of the day—and then she saw his golden eyes poking through the holes in the fence, and her heart _lurched_.

"Holy macaroni with pepperoni!" she shouted. "Guys, I just remembered, I have a _really_ horrible situation at home and I so gotta go right now—"

" _Higurashi!_ " Jyohaku bellowed after her. But she had disappeared, scrambling out of the shrine as fast as her legs could carry her until she caught up to him. 

Sesshoumaru. Standing outside in broad daylight. He looked as surprised as her, and her eyes flicked to the small urn tucked under his arm.

"Sesshoumaru!" she hissed. "What the _hell_ is this? Why are you doing out here?"

"I…" Sesshoumaru started but she cut into his words before he could explain himself.

"You're not supposed to leave the house. You even carried that thing all the way here.”

"It contains the soil of my origins. I cannot part from it."

"I know, Sesshoumaru. I know. God!"

He frowned at her outburst, his nose flaring slightly in an indignant manner. "The black box is not working. There is nothing else of interest in the house."

"I yanked the cable out because the electricity bill went up the roof!"

"There is nothing wrong with the roof. Wait. Is there?"

"I'm sending you home straight-away. You're riding pillion on my bike, got that?”

Sesshoumaru sat gingerly at the back of her bicycle. He studied the two-wheeled contraption with interest, then wobbled with his life when she started to move. "Grab on to me," she ordered, but he curtly declined. The memories of getting zapped with _reiki_ were still fresh in his mind. Instead his hand caught on the handlebar behind his seat.

"What did you come here anyway?” she asked before she stepped on her pedal.

“I was curious to see you fare in your work environment."

"You mean to say you were stalking me."

When they got back home, the first thing Kagome did was to switch the television back on. She returned the urn to its proper place, placing it back on the altar.

_He can leave the house now. It means he's gained strength._

Kagome bit her finger, trying to muster a deep breath to compose herself. She glanced at Sesshoumaru in the living room, sitting motionless before the slapstick comedy playing on-screen.

_What if he tries to leave the house again? He knows nothing about how the world works. And the public eyes won’t take to him kindly either._

"I'm going back to the shrine," she told him after she had smoothened down her clothes. "Please don't leave the house again without my permission.“ Kagome paused. She was starting to sound like a domineering mother.

Sesshoumaru said nothing. He had not spoken a word since the trip home.

Back in the shrine, Kagome fingered the empty amulets in the souvenir store that were yet to be filled and blessed. They took the shape of a small empty vial, looped with a long cord. She pocketed one in her pants, tossing a coin into the cashier register.

"So what was the emergency back home, Kagome-sama?" Amari asked while they were closing the gates later that day. "I've never seen you in such a panic before."

"I uh, left the sink running."

"Oh dear!"

"Please sweep the floors faster, ladies!" Jyohaku barked near them. "Dusk is falling!"

Later that night, Sesshoumaru carefully inspected the amulet that Kagome had placed in his palm.

"I put a bit of soil from the urn inside it," she explained. "This means you don't need to bring that urn around when you go out. Pretty neat, huh? Here, let me put it on for you—"

Sesshoumaru backed away, a gesture now born from reflex, and one that was starting to irk her. 

"I noticed it for some time now,” she remarked. “It's like you have some sort of aversion when it comes to being touched. Don't want my grubby human fingers on you, is that it?"

"I will keep this safe." Sesshoumaru grasped the amulet. "How far can this sustain me?"

"I don't think you can go around too far with that amulet. And besides I won't allow it. It's a dangerous world out there, Sesshoumaru."

Something in his eyes shifted. "Is there anything more dangerous than a _daiyoukai_ who seeks to attain knowledge?"

Kagome blinked in surprise. She wanted to tell him that in the twenty-first century a _daiyoukai_ was nothing but a figment of folklore, but decided he would learn this himself.

She sat down on the tatami mat, accompanying him through another episode of _Ripley's_ , something about a washed-up mermaid's skeleton.

"Give me time. I'll make further arrangements for you," she said after a while.

"Elaborate, _miko_."

She looked at him. "Further arrangements like sorting out your face. And getting new clothes. I was just thinking about it. I can't possibly keep you locked up in here forever. Everyone’s entitled to their own freedom. And naturally you'll be curious about what's outside."

She hugged her knees and lowered her head. "I must have overlooked this part when I performed the after-ritual. I guess not only must I identify you as a proper person now, but one with _proper needs_ , just that they differ from us humans."

_Food, freedom, what else do you need, Sesshoumaru?_

Minutes later, as if having ascertained something, she straightened her legs and stood up. "Well, that’s that. I'm going to bed now. So goodnight."

"Thank you."

Kagome stopped. Back then being a powerful _daiyoukai_ meant being polite was never one of his stronger points. Ah, why was she still thinking about who he used to be? It was clear that the Sesshoumaru then was not the same Sesshoumaru now.

 _“A brand new person.”_ That was what she had told him that day. Otherwise she would not have been able to nag and hassle at him, would she? And he would never have assumed his new docile trait. Although sometimes, that old arrogant streak of his remained as strong.

"Anytime."

**_To be continued!_ **


	5. Stirrings

#  **Stirrings**

Kagome leafed through the old magazine, a lopsided grin etched on her face. A particular page turned up, showcasing an interview with a popular wrestler from years ago. A gaudy red mask donned over his eyes, his dark wavy locks tumbling down to his shoulders. “Onizuka the Great,” they called him. The _miko_ snickered as she read through the humorous interview that dug into his personal life.

" _What is your most favourite thing in the world?_ ” was one of the silly questions posed. “ _Cruising through the Djitsun highway towards Aoyama during sunset_ ,” Onizuka the Great had answered. “ _It has to be during sunset. And it has to be_ _in_ _my trusty old Yamaha SR500 bike._ ”

"Higurashi!"

Kagome yelped and hid the magazine behind her. She was so engrossed in reading that she did not even hear the _shoji_ door of the office slide open.

Jyohaku strode in, quietly seething before he snatched the magazine from her hands, throwing it back into his drawer and slamming it shut.

"How many times have I told you—"

"Not to snoop around your things, I know. But the magazine was on your desk and…"

Jyohaku landed heavily in his chair. He interlocked his fingers in a steeple and set her down with a penetrating stare. 

"So tell me. Did you come into my office simply to welcome yourself to the contents on my table?"

Kagome kicked her legs despondently in her seat. "I apologize, Jyohaku-sama. I actually came here to seek your advice.”

He snorted in response, opening his accounts book. "You got the wrong place, young lady. If it’s advice you want, then I _advise_ you to go call The Samaritans' hotline." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Oh please. You're the head _priest_. At least impart me with your wisdom. And don’t “young lady” me."

"So? Wisdom is something you gain from experience and acute observation, regardless of your vocation. And it's not like I became a priest out of my own calling…"

He stopped himself before more words could spill, but she already knew what he meant. Yukino-jingu was a family shrine and as per tradition, was passed down through the generations. The former head had been Jyohaku's father. When the old man succumbed to pancreatic cancer, Jyohaku's successful wrestling career too met its demise.

"It's frustrating, isn't it?" Kagome said. He watched her play with her fingers and they were all lined with scars. "To have that period of happiness just suddenly snatched from you, by a cruel twist of fate. At one point you thought it might have lasted forever. But I guess the gods had a different plan." 

Then she looked up and smiled ruefully at him. "But I believe—no matter how short-lived that happiness was, it must have taught us something. And it was definitely worth it, for what it was."

Jyohaku studied his own hand, at the coarse lines running across his palm, the hard calluses on his fingers. He clenched his fist. He had heard certain things about Higurashi from his old man whilst he was still kicking. Who knew she would decide to join the shrine years later? As much as she was decidedly immature at times, Jyohaku had quickly figured it was just a façade to hide the real tenacity behind her eyes. And that sheer tenacity was the main reason she persevered well through her time as an apprentice, while the others had left soon after they joined.

Kirihata too. He would give her a few more months before she decided to call in quits—always quaking in her knees every time she saw him.

"Well, exactly what kind of advice are you seeking?" Jyohaku then asked in a milder tone, changing the subject. He slipped on his reading glasses and scribbled some numbers into his book. "I cannot promise I can give you the best…"

"Do you believe that people will change when they have power stripped of them?"

He looked up with a frown. Where exactly was she heading with such a question?

"Stripped of power? It's hard to say, but if you can garner from the opposite, then I suppose, yes."

"From the opposite?"

" _Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power,_ " he quoted. "Abraham Lincoln. The possession of power definitely is a dangerous thing to a weak mind. If you ever have a chance to wield it, in whatever context it may be, then tread wisely, Higurashi."

Her eyes locked with his. He knew she understood, but to what degree she could apply in her life, he did not know. And then he saw briefly that fire, the tenacious one, the one that sometimes frightened even him, but had strangely intrigued his old man. Just thinking about what happened during that particular exorcism was more than enough to break him in goosebumps.

Quickly he cleared his throat, flipping a page. "Any further questions?"

"Well, one more," Kagome said. Her lopsided smile was back on her face, the hard glint in her eyes gone. She stood up for the door then glanced back just as she was about to leave.

“Of all the names really, why “Onizuka the Great?”

Jyohaku tossed his pen after her.

* * *

Sesshoumaru sat by the windowsill the way he did every day. He was still finding difficulty reading the digital clock on the wall, even though Kagome had painstakingly taught him. That the numeral "7" on the far left would mean she would be home anytime soon. It was showing “7" initially, and then the sun had set and it was not showing "7" anymore, but Kagome was still yet to be home.

An indiscernible, heavy sensation grew in his chest each time she left for work and could only be appeased when she returned to him. It was as if there was another creature inside him that thrived on their physical proximity. In Kagome's absence, it would fidget and grate on his being like a bad toothache.

Of course he never related this to her. She thought all along that he was attached to the soil inside the urn, scrapped from the bridge. It was not adequate. He sought his energy from her blood, from her _being,_ and it was a lesson learnt the hard way when he woke up for the first time from the after-ritual. Naked and shivering, Kagome had left him for the shrine, and it hurt him so much that he could not even move on the floor.

The days were getting better now. He could get by more easily, live in that discomfort over time. It did not quell his window-sitting habit however.

His head craned out, eyes fixed at the pathway leading towards the house. Kagome’s familiar shuffling footsteps, her soft scent—they were reaching him. And then he saw her toddling home, her hands full. The creature inside him stopped thrashing, lulled by her appearance.

Quickly Sesshoumaru rushed to his usual spot, the one before the television.

"I'm home!" Kagome called out, her keys jingling in the entrance. She closed the door behind her and greeted him with a large smile. “Hello there. What have you been up to? Eh, let me guess, watching TV again?”

Sesshoumaru said nothing, seemingly invested in a drama series.

Her muscles groaned in agony, having rushed to the nearby Isetan departmental store after work, but Kagome could not wait any longer. She raised the shopping bags in her arms. "Look what I got for you, Sesshoumaru! Come on, see what's in there!"

She removed the clothes from their packaging and Sesshoumaru caressed the material through his fingers. Kagome laughed at the way he smelled through each of them. He had reacted the same way too when she showed him his Hello Kitty apron. "Do you like them?"

"It is not silk,” he remarked, and Kagome stilted her eyes at him, “but it should suffice."

"A silk kimono would take me some time. But first I have to teach you how to wear a shirt and a pair of trousers."

"Hn.”

"I think you'll look very handsome indeed," Kagome said, unbuttoning a shirt.

Sesshoumaru gave her a quiet glance. "A _miko_ should not harbour such thoughts."

"What?” she went, breathless with laughter. “I'm not some kind of an old-fashioned goody-two-shoes. If I were, I wouldn't have prayed and sacrificed a—" She stopped short, biting her lip. "Anyway, what I mean is, you _are_ handsome. In fact, the most gorgeous _youkai_ I've ever met. And trust me, I've seen a whole damn lot of _youkai_ for an average person."

His lips quirked into a small smile as she draped the shirt around him on his shoulders. "Even more than my half-brother?" he mused, just for the sake.

Kagome shook her head. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with him.

Carefully she eased the long sleeves into his arms, buttoning the cuffs and the front of his shirt. Then she smoothed her hand down his clothed chest, absorbing his warmth into her skin. She could feel his steady heartbeat, something that both amazed and frightened her.

 _An actual, living pulse. A real person_. _Sesshoumaru. And you're here now, breathing, existing because of me._

"Stupid," she whispered. "I told you, you’re the most gorgeous."

It was not him. This Sesshoumaru would never be bothered by her personal opinion of him. But the creature in his chest, the one that danced at the mere sight of her, had swelled up so much upon her soft whisper that even he was finding it hard to breathe.

**_To be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could Kagome stay so calm while putting her hand on Sesshoumaru's chest? Even he is having a hard time XD


	6. Downtown

#  **Downtown**

**A/N: Heya, this is one of the chapters I've been raring to write. Kagome finally takes Sesshoumaru out downtown!**

The weather was good. The azure skies were devoid of clouds, stretched wide as the eyes could see and the sun was bright—but it was a good kind of bright, and not the headache-inducing kind that sometimes pierced through the windows and into his eyes.

Sesshoumaru hung the clothes to dry on the laundry line behind the house, securing them with wooden pegs. He could hear the theme song of a popular Japanese drama series blaring from the television inside. He needed to complete this task on hand, _now_.

" _Always whip the laundry before you hang it to dry!_ " Kagome’s words echoed into his mind. _"That way they won't get wrinkled!_ "

He whipped the shirt with a startling impatience.

"Ah, good morning!" A cheery, feminine voice pealed from the back door. It could only belong to one person—the mistress of the house. "Oh, you're doing laundry! Such an efficient housemate if I say so myself."

Sesshoumaru gave a slight glance. Kagome appeared with an extra-large smile on her face, the one that meant an agenda up her sleeves.

“No need to cook today, alright?” she told him. “We’ll be having lunch outside today.”

“Hn.”

"Yes! I'm going to bring you out to town! And hopefully we'll get you some new things."

Sesshoumaru reached into the laundry basket, and Kagome's new expensive lace bra trailed from his grasp.

"Hey!" she called out. "Did you put that in the washing machine? I told you to hand wash only!"

A while later Kagome was drumming her fingers on the tabletop, looking at the wall clock. It was almost noon, and the sandwich breakfast she had two hours ago was paying no justice to her growling stomach.

He finally stepped out from his room. Kagome whistled. “Someone’s lookin’ lit.”

Dressed in a lightweight sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, his new clothes complemented his build very well. They accentuated Sesshoumaru's tall, slim stature, fitting his well-rounded shoulders just nicely, and giving his legs a lengthened effect. As if his legs were not long enough, Kagome quickly chucked the thought away.

Amazing how a simple change of clothes could alter someone’s outward impression, to the point that from a single glance he looked almost like a regular human male. Well, almost.

She shushed Sesshoumaru back into the room and pushed him before the mirror.

"There's just a teensy-weensy problem," Kagome said. "Look into the mirror. Do you see what I see?"

Sesshoumaru appraised his reflection with a critical eye. He preferred his traditional robes to anything else—at least they made him appear regal and self-important. His current garb had him looking like another peasant of the earth.

"Despite my peasantly clothes, I see a ruthless, dangerous _daiyoukai_ out to conquer this world that he has set his eyes upon."

Kagome laughed nervously. "Yes, and he needs some form of disguise if he intends to go shopping, doesn't he?"

Suddenly she yanked down a beanie from nowhere down his face. The pair resisted each other in a peculiar struggle, as Sesshoumaru worked to remove the offending piece of accessory from his eyes.

" _Release me this instant!_ "

"You need to hide your pointy ears and your bright hair and those funny markings on your scary demon face."

"Why must I? And those markings are not to be made light of—they are bearings of the noble _inu-youkai_ clan, of which only esteemed members of the aristocracy are…"

An hour later, Sesshoumaru found himself sitting in a café, staring at an abstract painting on the wall as Kagome scarfed on a plate of fish and chips. Beanie on his head.

" _Ohomon, wa dee wong fesh_ ?" she remarked through big spoon-fuls of fried dory. _Oh come on, why the long face?_

She swallowed her food. "I know you're not used to it—but look on the bright side. You can now easily walk around in public without anyone getting a heart attack. That's good for a start, isn't it?"

Sesshoumaru lashed her with a glare and she reeled back. "I have never found the need to blend myself among humans."

Kagome poked her fish with her fork. "Well you gotta now, if you intend to go outside."

Sesshoumaru had picked nothing from the menu, and whether it was because he really found no interest in actual food, or that he was too in a surly mood to eat, she was not quite sure. And here she thought they could have a nice lunch together.

After her meal was done, Kagome headed for the cashier. Turning, she discovered to her horror that their table was empty. She rushed out from the café in panic.

Sesshoumaru was surrounded by a group of high-school students, and fast the subject of their open-mouthed awe and whispers of astonishment. His beanie was past gone, his long silver hair cascading down his back in proud, mighty waves. Kagome smacked her forehead.

"Oh crap!" She made a mad dash towards the group, squeezing desperately through their bodies.

"You look so cool!" a boy was gushing.

"Your ears are like the real deal! It's crazy!" another girl cried.

"Sir, who are you cosplaying? Or is it like an original character you designed?" another boy enquired.

Kagome's face twitched as she faced the hoard of students beside him. "Hold on. You guys think he's cosplaying?"

"Well, yeah!" said the girl who had complimented on Sesshoumaru's ears. "This town is famous for its cosplayers roaming around the street. After all, the Tokyo Cosplay Committee is just a few blocks away!"

Sesshoumaru and Kagome stared at each other.

"You mentioned people would drop their things and scurry for safety at the actual sight of this Sesshoumaru," he said.

"Is that why you removed your beanie? So you could test that theory?"

"Indeed. Although it seems to have backfired—they actually seem impressed."

"Hey! We wanna take a selfie with you!" the girl chirped again.

"Well I'll be. Thank god for cosplay," Kagome muttered, dragging him away from the students as they called out in protest.

The pair began to stroll along the stores. Kagome tried hard not to be ruffled by the flabbergasted reactions of the passer-bys that rewarded their every step. She could only be comforted by a single thought: _At least they think he's still human. Weirdo or not._ As usual Sesshoumaru was taking everything well in his stride.

"What is a "SALE"?" he enquired, pointing to a large sign outside a Uniqlo store.

"It means the clothes are selling at a discount."

"What is a discount?"

But Sesshoumaru was mumbling to himself, as he disappeared into the store on his own, leaving a peeved Kagome behind.

"I shall acquire this, and this and this..."

"Hello sir," Kagome snapped around the bale of clothes he was tossing as he rounded all the displays, "do you think you _own_ this place?"

"I was unaware shopping could be such a…" Sesshoumaru chose his words carefully as he continued down the redbrick-paved streets, a panting Kagome behind as she lugged his shopping bags, "… _therapeutic_ experience."

"Of course it's therapeutic," she wheezed, "when you're not paying a single cent!"

"I see a peculiar structure in the far distance. Enlighten me, _miko_ ," Sesshoumaru pointed ahead.

If it's another sale sign, I swear I'm gonna run amok _,_ she thought. She looked up and instead her eyes met the large, conspicuous rim of a Ferris Wheel, its colourful lights softly blinking in the distance.

Her face softened. "There's an amusement park up front," she said. "It's been ages since I went there."

They sat across each other inside the Ferris Wheel. Both were silent, Kagome flat against her seat, catching a breather, while Sesshoumaru was distracted by the view outside the window. His eyes soaked in the breath-taking scenery of the bustling metropolis fringed by the dark blue ocean, a few centuries too late. She smiled, remembering her own reaction as a child.

“You know, couples usually go out like this,” she said, glancing at the window. “Just one of those things that makes into a list of perfect date ideas.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes slid to hers. “And a date is...?”

Kagome sat up rigidly. “Well, it’s when two people are interested in each other and…”

She thought she heard a chuckle and before she knew it, Sesshoumaru had crossed over, filling the seat beside her. Her heart did a little jump.

“I know what it means. Remember how I said that I interpret words through their intent. Dating,” he said, “It is the modern form of courting, no?”

“Yes, exactly,” Kagome replied. Was he trying to tease her? She found herself subtly inching away from his sudden proximity. Sesshoumaru was too close—and she was forced to analyze the iridescent strokes of colour in his irises. Pretty. Very pretty but yup, we definitely need to talk about personal space tonight.

“I have seen my fair share of examples on television,” he continued, as though it was a piece of knowledge worthy of sharing. Before she could comprehend his meaning, he leaned even closer. His breath was feathering on her face.

“Hah, I see.” Kagome broke into a flimsy smile, trying her darndest to stay calm. “You’re trying to go all Hollywood on me, Sesshoumaru?”

She could feel his body heat radiating against hers. Kagome felt herself hyperventilate—was the air hot or _what_?—and in the midst of distracting herself, her eyes flew to his hand between them. 

She flinched at the sight. Sesshoumaru had quietly developed claws over the course of many months, and they shaped long and deadly-looking.

For one moment, she had forgotten who he truly was. _Not human,_ her heart whispered _._

"Do you mind if I ask something?" she then said softly. "Why were you haunting that old bridge?"

He finally moved away from her. It was evidently a subject he did not want to breach.

"I was guarding it," Sesshoumaru answered after a long silence. 

_Guarding for what? Guarding from who?_

There were so many other questions left uncovered. Questions he would not answer properly. No, another few months had passed since the last time she asked and he still seemed content to _not_ remember anything.

Or perhaps, he actually did remember. At least that was what it felt to her. If that was the case, then he was wrapping her around his finger, wasn't he, occasionally throwing bits of information here and there as and when he saw fit.

She did not know what the truth was anymore, or if there was any point in pursuing it. Suddenly Kagome felt as though it was not her who had been in control all along but rather he, Sesshoumaru, who had her waiting by his hand…

Kagome turned to the window. The sky was pink, the fading sun heading towards the indigo-streaked horizon. She decided not to be carried away by her thoughts, not when a beautiful scene laid before her eyes. 

"I guess it's pretty late. And we've already got the things you wanted." She stared at the view, staring but not really staring. "Don’t worry. We can always come here again. And I promise you the scenery outside the window never changes. The buildings near the sea line may be new, but the way the sky changes its colour, and the way the sea glitters when the sun dips down—it has always been the same."

There was no reply beside her. Sesshoumaru had conveniently lapsed into silence again.

* * *

Kagome flicked the amulet hanging by his neck after they got down from the bus. 

"Better than bringing that urn around, right?" she said. What she did not know was that the amulet proved useless when she was close to him, something Sesshoumaru had kept to himself. As they rounded a corner, she put up a hand to stop them.

"One last stop beforehand, Sesshoumaru," Kagome said. "This is important for you. Anytime when I'm not home, and you gotta run for groceries, this is the place you go to," and she gestured to an unassuming settlement hulking beside a faulty streetlight, “the Family Mart!”

There was a young man squatting outside its premises, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The moment he saw Kagome approaching the doors, he quickly tossed his stick into a bin and wiped his hands behind his jeans. "Kagome-sama, welcome!"

"Hey!"

He greeted them with a short bow at the doors, and Sesshoumaru casted a glance to his nametag: _Ichiro_.

He stabbed the man with a vicious stare, a menacing growl forming, and would have thrown out a bark if Kagome had not pulled him. 

"This is where you get the eggs," she pointed. She was guiding Sesshoumaru through a tour of the store, which as modest as it appeared, packed almost everything and anything she might need. "And this is the frozen section…"

"So I am expected to monitor our food supplies at home now," Sesshoumaru stated drearily, as she went on to teach him the subtle differences between mayonnaise brands.

"Don’t give me that face. Not _totally_. I mean, I'm still in-charge of the groceries, but in case we're short of sugar or flour, you won't need to wait for me anymore. I guess this also means you'll have better freedom in your cooking plans, and not just restricted to whatever's in the kitchen."

"Hn. Understood."

Kagome placed her basket on the cashier counter. She smiled at the young man from before. He was only slightly older than her and exhibited quite a distinct sense of style—despite being in the service line, it did not deter him from sporting bleached hair or more specifically cornrows, for that matter. His left eyebrow and lips were also pierced.

"It's just you today, Ichiro-kun?"

"Yeah, Asano called in sick last minute. He’s barely here that I betcha don’t even know what the guy looks, right?" Ichiro snickered. 

He then stole a glance at the tall weird-looking man beside Kagome. The creepy fellow had been staring at him non-stop ever since he stepped into the store. _He_ should be the one doing the staring—because what's up with that get-up, man? Nobody cosplays in this part of the neighbourhood.

"Hey," Kagome said, realizing the two had set eyes on each other, "by the way Ichiro-kun, this is Sesshoumaru. He's new to the area, so any time you see him in the store, do say hello!"

Sesshoumaru offered a condescending sniff.

"That boy in the store," he said later, when they were home and he was helping her to sort out the groceries. The meat in the fridge, the salt and oil in the cabinets. "I do not like him."

"Gee, that's not a nice thing to say. I mean, he does look a bit unique, but—"

"I do not care about being nice. It is a petty form of diplomacy born to conform to a social construct." He exhaled a deep breath. "I did not like you either when we first met."

Kagome snorted a laugh. "You mean when I exorcised the hell out of you."

"No. When you pulled out my father's fang from the ground."

She stared at him for a moment, the tomato denting in her hand.

"You know what, I think it's possible after all," she said, narrowing her eyes. "That you're just purposely withholding information from our past."

"You slander me."

"Yeah, right."

"This Sesshoumaru requires to feed."

"There you go again, changing the subject."

A quiet growl rumbled from Sesshoumaru, so soft it sounded like a purr from his chest. He tugged on her sleeve, a delicate frown on his face.

Kagome rolled her eyes. 

"I just don't know what to do with you sometimes.” She waved her hand to dismiss him. "Go on, then. Wait for me by the altar."

As Kagome proceeded to take a knife and a bowl, the steel blade meeting blood, she wondered to herself just who was binded to whom.

_To be continued..._


	7. Dolphin in the Sky

Disclaimer: 'Summer of 69' lyrics written by Bryan Adams, James Douglas Vallance

 _Standing on your mama's porch_ _  
_ _You said that it'd last forever_ _  
_ _Oh, and when you held my hand_ _  
_ _I knew it was now or never_ _  
_ _Those were the best days of my life_   
\- **Summer of '69** , Bryan Adams

#  **Dolphin in the Sky**

_"It's not similar," Kagome countered beside him._

_His eyebrows furrowed at the cloudy, summer sky._

_"What? What's not similar?"_

_"That cloud. You said it looks similar to a dolphin. Well, it doesn't."_

_He crossed his arms underneath his head, the tall grass prickling against his arms. He sneered._

_"Keh. You're speaking as if you've seen a dolphin in real life."_

_"Excuse me. I've seen plenty of those in the Tokyo Aqua Park. How about you—have you even seen an actual dolphin before?"_

_His nose scrunched in annoyance. The scent of her sweat lightly graced his nostrils, and for a moment Inuyasha was suddenly aware of just how close Kagome was, lying beside him on the grass._

_"I'm telling you, it looks like a goddamned dolphin."_

_Kagome twisted her mouth. The large slow-moving formation, cottony and wispy at the edges belied no characteristics whatsoever of said animal. There was no dorsal fin that the eyes could shape, or a snout maybe, or a tail. Which part of the cloud exactly screamed "dolphin" to Inuyasha was beyond her. As usual, there was always something to disagree with, even during a lazy, relaxing activity of lying in a meadow._

_"Idiot," she said._

_"Know-it-all."_

_A cicada hopped near his ear on the grass, chirping. He immediately sat up to swat it away. Kagome watched as he tossed his head to shake off the offending insect, a string of vehement curses trailing from his mouth._

_She could do it if she really wanted to. She could just reach out and touch his back. He was that close to her. She wondered in a year's time, as of now, would things remain the same way they were? A year from now, could she still manage to find time to lay beside him on the grass, arguing about dolphins, a cicada in his ear…_

_"Ne, Inuyasha."_

_"What?" he went, his voice exasperated._

_Kagome smiled to herself. She could finally see the dolphin, although subtly so, its head springing out from the left edge._

_"Nothing."_

Kagome woke up with a start. Her eyes automatically darted to her alarm clock, and she shot out a curse.

Minutes later she was whizzing past the kitchen (where Sesshoumaru was carefully stirring a pot of _dashi_ stock) and ran straight to the door where she squeezed frantically into her shoes. By the time Sesshoumaru peeked out from the kitchen, his head slipping through the _noren_ curtain, Kagome had already disappeared.

"I wish I could be as enthusiastic as you," Kagome grumbled in the shrine hall as she wiped the windows with a rag, "doing _spring-cleaning_ on a Monday morning."

Amari managed a sheepish smile as she wrung her rag over a bucket. Kagome-sama must have woken from the wrong side of the bed.

"If the head priest wishes it, then it will be done so!"

"Do you know that man is impossible to please?" Kagome threw her rag and proceeded to sit down, hands folded tight in indignance. "Trust me, I've been working in this shrine for three years. There is always something to nit-pick."

"That's what you say, but the both of you are closer than I’ll ever be. Even Atsushi says he treats you differently. Oh, I really miss Atsushi. He left us so abruptly."

“Sometimes I wish his late father was still here,” Kagome continued with her grousing. "Now that would be an actual priest I’d be honoured to serve. Not this ridiculous offspring of his.”

"Eh?" Amari paused her vigorous wiping. "Didn't he pass on before Jyohaku-sama took over? How did you know him?"

A strange look overcame Kagome’s face. She almost appeared as if she had spoken too much and then regretted it.

She carefully strung her words. "It was many years ago. But back when his father was still the shrine head, he cured me of an ailment I had. It was because of that gratitude that I decided to serve here. But alas, I found out later that he had already passed on.”

Amari looked at Kagome, speechless. An ailment that required a priest to fix? She would never have thought that her cheerful, down-to-earth friend was one with an uneasy past. Her reason to join the shrine was worlds apart from her own. It made her feel a bit silly, and she decided not to probe further.

Suddenly something stole her attention and Amari peered outside the window, towards the _torii_ gate of the shrine. "Oh, looks like we have a guest!"

She ran out to welcome him, but returned mere minutes later, wearing a distraught look on her face.

"The visitor…” Amari murmured to herself. “He looks like a really odd fellow. I think he is one of those guys that likes to dress up in costumes. Cosplay, is it what it’s called?"

Immediately Kagome grabbed her by the shoulders, her eyes wide as plates. "Amari-chan, tell me. Does this guy happen to look like one of those elf creatures from Lord of the Rings?"

"Ah yes, you described him perfectly! But he's wearing a Hello Kitty apron though…" Amari looked on in wonderment as her friend dashed out from the hall as if it were a matter of life and death.

It really was Sesshoumaru at the entrance, looking like he had just stepped out from the kitchen. But it was too late. She saw that the head priest had intercepted him first. Her jaw dropped.

Kagome swore there was an electric charge in the air, buzzing between the two equally intimidating figures. They were evidently appraising each other in a face-off. Sesshoumaru and Jyohaku. Their names should never be in the same sentence. Kagome wanted to faint. The latter especially, was stock-still in surprise.

Sesshoumaru finally removed his hard stare from the baffled priest. He strode to the pillar Kagome was cowering behind.

“You skipped your breakfast today,” he chastised, pushing a warm _bento_ into the _miko’s_ withering hands. “I will not have you do the same for lunch.” 

That said, he then turned heel without another word, his shoes clacking self-importantly down the cobbled stone steps.

Kagome stared incredulously at the lunch box in her hand.

"Who on earth was that?" Amari called, joining everyone as she watched the mysterious stranger leave. A deep frown sullied Jyohaku’s face. The strange man had a peculiar pair of eyes, familiar but in an unsettling way.

"Housemate?" Amari said later during the day, as she bit into a fishball. The two ladies were having lunch at the garden benches. "You're telling me that all your recent amazing _bento_ sets were prepared by him? But if he's a guy, and he's living with you, wouldn't that make him your boy—"

Kagome nearly choked. "Where did you get that? He cooks and cleans after me in exchange for shelter, that's all!"

"So…he's a butler?" Amari suggested innocently.

Kagome scratched her head sheepishly. "Well I guess you could say that."

Amari sighed in relief, smiling. "Wow, a butler. You must be really lucky, Kagome-sama. I was worried about you living on your own, especially when your family is so far away. Well as long as he’s a good guy, it should be alright."

Immediately old memories of Sesshoumaru trying to melt her in green acid during a tussle for his father’s sword swarmed Kagome’s mind. Where did _that_ come from? She shook the images away, and they were replaced with heartwarming, domestic scenes of him vacuuming the carpet with a blasé expression. Yes, that’s more like it.

"Yup, he’s a really good guy. The best you can think of. In housework, I mean.”

“So he _really_ isn't your boyfriend, huh?"

"Not in a million years." Kagome crammed a deep-fried _unagi_ into her mouth. By golly, the lunches just kept getting better. Trust Sesshoumaru to know she loved eel.

Suddenly Amari beamed with a suspicious brightness. "Well, in that case, let's go out for dinner one day, shall we? It’s high time I introduce you to my brother!"

"Amari-chan…"

Kagome changed into her pajamas after her warm bath. Once again an array of dishes was waiting for her on the table for dinner. She sat down and grabbed her chopsticks and was about to chow down her food, when she stopped.

"Ne, Sesshoumaru," she called out to him from the dining area. He was in the living room watching television as usual. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"

He dragged his response. "This is a very informative documentary being aired right now. The internal structure of the Giza Pyramids—”

"Fine. You don't have to if you don't want to."

Awhile later he appeared, sitting docilely at the low table. "The grilled saba fish tastes nice," Kagome commented, picking on its flesh with her chopsticks. "Thank you."

Sesshoumaru said nothing. Kagome swallowed her food slowly.

"Hey, Sesshoumaru. Have you… Have you seen a dolphin before?"

Her housemate turned to give her his most dumbfounded expression yet, his eyebrows raised so high it nearly touched his hairline. And she thought his face had been chiselled in ivory.

"A…dolphin?"

She nodded, giggling. "Yes. I'll bring you to the Tokyo Aqua Park to see the fishes one day. You'll enjoy that, won't you?"

Sesshoumaru blinked, registering her words slowly. He studied his lap for a long time, so long in fact that she thought he had shut himself up like he always did, and the conversation was over.

"I will go wherever you go," he whispered at last.

**_To be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why a dolphin? I don't know, it just kinda appeared in my head. Anyway do take note that Kagome does not actually remember her dreams containing her memories (with Inuyasha for example, at the start of the chapter). It stayed repressed in her subconscious mind, until she was eating fish for dinner, and she sorta went, "Let's talk about dolphins." Kinda sad, huh.


	8. Bliss in Ignorance

#  **Bliss in Ignorance**

"Hey, watch it! That box contains artefacts at least a thousand years old!"

"Careful now! Load everything slowly on the lorry!"

Kagome chuckled to herself as she watched the noisy scene before her. She was at her mother's house, doing a little visiting. Apparently the movers had arrived first when she came, shifting out the huge boxes from their shed.

Souta, now a tall, 18-year-old was running around with them, making sure they were moving the right boxes, and cautiously so. Once in a while he would go, "You guys are going the wrong way!" or "Not that one—that contains the garden tools!"

At last he joined his sister and mother at the side, wiping his sweat off his forehead.

"You need to keep telling them they're carrying prized possessions," he sighed on his haunches, "or they'll just lug everything around like airport cargo."

"But aren't these movers the ones dispatched by the National Archives Museum?" Mrs Higurashi wondered aloud.

"Gee, it's like you guys are moving from the house," Kagome laughed.

"Oh no, Kagome," her mother said. "You know we would never do that. The Higurashis have been staying at this ancestral house for more than five generations."

Souta looked over his shoulder, to the house that he had been staying at all his life. Suddenly his late grandpa surfaced in his memory. Gramps hadn't died in the house—he had died in the hospital surrounded by his loved ones. And in his will he had mentioned that the ancient treasures he had devoted his life to caring for, be donated to the National Archives Museum so people could learn about them. Maybe, deep inside the old man knew there was no one in the family he could depend on to delegate the task.

Souta sighed. He had been engrossed in his baseball games all these years, trying to score a place in the national team. Which he had succeeded, by the way. He had no right to feel disappointed that the family heirloom would now be showcased in glass boxes, where people would have to pay a ticket to see them.

As if sensing his thoughts, his sister placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "It's about time anyway, Souta," she said. Souta looked away. His sister was no longer as sentimental, her emotions more guarded. Sometimes it was like she conveniently forgot about everything that happened.

Kagome walked towards the shed, taking care not to obstruct the busy movers. It had been a long time since she last stepped inside since she moved from her hometown. It was almost empty now, the shelves encased in a thick layer of dust, a mere shell of what it used to be: a vault of magical ancient treasures.

She swiped a cob-web near her head. _If Gramps was still here he would have taken care of everything thoroughly. Speaking of ancient…_

Something pricked her mind. Slowly she sauntered out from the shed, then walked towards the shack which housed the old well. As she expected, it was locked with a large, heavy padlock. A yellow _fuda_ paper talisman was pasted on the doors, indecipherable _kanji_ scribbled on it, wrinkled and faded with age. It was different than the usual ones Gramps used. After all, it had been issued by the late head priest of Yukino-jingu, when he had come to bless the well years ago.

It almost felt like a forgotten dream, one fuzzy at its edges. Kagome could vaguely remember the details of that painful period, when the well had suddenly sealed itself in the middle of her epic adventure after Naraku's final battle. 

_Naraku_. Even that name sounded so unfamiliar to her now. But following that event, she fell into a great dark pit, one she did not think she could escape from. For a long period of time Kagome cooped herself up in her room, a self-quarantine, barely exchanging words with her family, let alone anyone else. Her health suffered, as did her grades. Consequently she was dropped from college. And she could not even care less, for was the point? She could no longer see Inuyasha and her friends anymore. They were no longer part of her life.

Her grandfather was sure she had been cursed, and called a priest for help.

"She's not cursed," he had told her family. "She has a powerful spiritual energy inside her, but it's unable to flow. Something is blocking her channels, and it lies in her refusal to accept and heal from her trauma." 

Kagome smiled to herself as she touched the curled edge of the talisman. The well had been sealed for good, lest it invoked triggers in her.

"Once upon a time, I thought my feudal fairy tale would have lasted forever."

"Sis, why are you talking to yourself?" Souta called from the back. "Is dinner at Ryoutaro's still on?"

On the train back home, Kagome drifted into sleep. She was rudely awakened by a vibrating buzz of her phone. Squinting, she read through the long chain of messages in the group chat.

"What, Eri is getting married to some old dude?" she whispered in disbelief. "Yuka's graduated from her master's degree, and Ayumi's kid just celebrated his second birthday recently." She released a long sigh. "And then there's me."

For reasons unrelated, she remembered something and hastily dialled a number.

Speaking of incoming weddings, I wonder how's _he_ doing?

" _Moshi moshi_ ," a young male voice answered.

"Hello, Atsushi. It's Kagome. Do you remember me?"

There was a pause. "Kagome-sama!" he then went in surprise. "Of course, I remember you. You were the only person who's managed to beat me in Go."

Kagome giggled at the memory. "Say, I haven't heard from you for so long. How are you and Saeko? I briefly remembered you saying your wedding would be held this year, right?"

"Yes, it would be this summer at the Royal Ginza Hotel. Watch out for my invitation card!" She laughed. "By the way,” he asked, “are you still working at the shrine, with Amari and Jyohaku?"

"Yes, yes I am."

He drew a long breath. "You're a strong woman. There was no way I could continue to work there, not after _that_ incident." He went silent for a while. "Kagome-sama. I still get nightmares…over that thing."

 _That thing…_ Her thoughts diverged. _That thing is living with me now._

"It's completely shattered the way I see the world. It's just crazy." She could imagine him shaking his head as he said it. A woman's voice floated on the line, presumably Saeko, his fiancée. "I'm sorry, I gotta go now. Thanks for the catch-up though. It was real good to hear from you. See you guys at my wedding!"

The dial tone signaled the end of the call. She pulled away her phone, disliking the sound it made.

Kagome walked slowly towards the pathway to her house. Maybe it was the lamplight doing tricks, or just plain fatigue. But she swore she saw a little figure playing at her door. It was gone in a second, and the first thought that went through her mind was, _I really need a soak in the tub and a beer._

She entered the storeroom as the bathtub filled itself. The altar at the corner glowed quietly.

"You know what's good right now?" she told herself, as she uncovered the antique phonograph by the window, then realized she had been talking a lot to herself that day. The phonograph belonged to the _miko_ who lived there prior to her, or to be precise, Jyohaku's mother before she got married. Stacks of dusty vinyl records, mostly of English albums laid at its side. "Some music. Some music is good."

And then she slipped into her warm bath, sipping a can of Asahi Dry as the melodic voice of Doris Day filled her house.

 _You won’t admit you love me_ _  
__And so how am I ever_ _  
__To know, you always tell me_  
 _Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps_

Something splashed on her face, and her eyes flew open. Sesshoumaru was kneeling by the tub.

Her body jerked in reflex. "You lucky son of a—"

"You fell asleep," he said.

Kagome groaned inwardly. Her beer can was floating in the cool water and her house was strangely quiet. How long had time passed?

She found herself covering her chest, then stopped herself. _It's not like Sesshoumaru sees me as a woman, anyway._

"I mopped all the floors today," he told her in a proud voice. "I cleared the trash."

"Mmm, good boy," she mumbled. She kneaded her temples—she could feel a headache coming. 

“I would like my reward now,” Sesshoumaru said.

She saw the way his clawed, pale hands were curled around the edge of the tub, and that look on his face, that round-eyed, pleading look—

She pretended not to understand. She filched the beer can out from the water, and aimed for the trash can beneath the sink. It dropped inside effortlessly. Then she laid her head back and shut her eyes.

"Sesshoumaru, I'm tired of this.” Her words bounced back from the ceiling, hitting her face. “Really, I am. I'm tired of playing the waiting game. You have to tell me something, anything. And you know exactly what I'm talking about here. Stop beating around the bush."

"And what is it that you wish to hear exactly?"

She exhaled slowly, frowning. She did not know why it was difficult to form her next words.

_What is it? What is it that's really important—that I need to know?_

_Or am I just scared—that it no longer matters?_

"If it is my half-brother that is in your mind, then I can only say that he was well, _the last time I saw him_." Sesshoumaru lightly fingered his chin. "In fact I remember that he had slightly put on weight."

Kagome lifted herself and fixed him with an incredulous stare. If only she had her beer can with her so she could throw it at his face. "Idiot. If you can even remember such an unnecessary detail, you could have afford to remember everything else!"

"It was some time after you left. There was a great fire that ravaged the village where he and his comrades lived."

"Fire? What fire?"

“The fire that consumed half of the villagers’ lives.”

She felt her blood rush cold in her veins. _No, this can't be true. This is…this is the truth, isn't it? The truth I've been waiting for…_

"But Inuyasha survived, didn't he? He was not part of that half. You said the last time you saw him, he was… And my other friends—"

"Kagome Higurashi," Sesshoumaru said steadily, looking into her eyes. "That is your name, no?"

Pushed into sudden confusion, his bright eyes held on to hers. _Really_ , they were saying. _Do you really want to know, Kagome Higurashi?_

She found herself giving him an agonized smile. Once again, a dead end in the conversation.

Slowly Kagome stood up from her bath, water droplets cascading down her body. Sesshoumaru's line of sight followed her with great interest. She smelled subtly of diluted beer.

"I'm gonna take a light shower now. Go."

He shook his head. "This Sesshoumaru wishes to watch further."

He found himself reaching for the door after she threatened him with a wet kick. "Insufferable woman," Sesshoumaru muttered. 

"I _heard_ that, you stupid dog!"

**_To be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Credits: 'Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps' as written by Joe Davis, Osvaldo Farres  
> A lot of foreshadowing in this chapter!]


	9. Ghost on the Bridge

#  **Ghost on the Bridge**

**[A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to all the readers who have been following this story religiously! Here it is finally! The fateful encounter!]**

_Approximately a year ago…_

"I'm not going to lose this time, Kagome-sama. You may have gained an upper hand before, but it was a lucky fluke if I ever see one, and a fluke it is and nothing more."

"Then move your piece, Atsushi. The way your fingers are trembling, I would be worried if I were you. Don't want to make that same mistake of _accidentally_ pushing it into the wrong square again, do we?"

"I _told_ you, the board was slippery."

If stares could blind, Kagome and Atsushi would be stabbing sharp daggers into each other's eyes, white-hot sparks flashing between their tensed, adamant faces. Just then in the middle of that crucial, determining match of _Go_ —where both parties had wagered their prides and of what flimsy skills they had—came a series of urgent footsteps stomping against the wooden floorboards of Yukino-Jingu, approaching their room.

"Atsushi! Higurashi! We have a _harae_ appointment to catch!" a voice barked. The door slammed open, revealing Jyohaku's figure, his face turning from resolute to eye-twitchingly livid in a matter of seconds.

"Why the hell are you both playing board games at a time like this?!"

"A _what_ called?" Atsushi asked, as the three of them gathered into Jyohaku's car. The young training priest clicked on his seatbelt and swiped back his floppy fringe poking his eyes.

I should really have my bangs cut soon, he scolded himself, this thing is going to make me blind one day, I swear. Maybe he should get Saeko to do it, but Saeko herself had been so busy these few weeks over at her fancy-schmancy white Ginza office, while _he_ was stuck down here wiping shrine floors and manning the souvenir store. As a modern, technology-embracing young Japanese guy, he didn't even believe in any of these spiritual shi—

"A construction company," Jyohaku said again as his Honda Vezel roared to life, snapping Atsushi's thoughts instantly. "Mr Kawabata is his name. He's the surveyor for his company. He's called for a _harae_ to be performed at his construction site someplace in Kiba, where they're going to build a holiday villa. Says there's been too many accidents, and work has been halted for too long."

"A-accidents?" Atsushi gulped.

"Falling trees. Missing machinery. Sixteen struck with an inexplicable illness in the hospital as we speak. That sort of thing."

Kagome leaned forward to the paling Atsushi sitting in the front seat. "Atsushi, this is your first time assisting a purification ritual, isn't it? It's mostly a routine job for us."

"Why didn't you just make Amari go with you guys? I can help keep an eye on the shrine on her behalf."

Jyohaku rapped him with his folded, wooden fan and Atsushi howled. "Grow a pair, would you, boy! The shrine doesn't accept pansies! Really, you youngsters and your pampered, cosy lives. I bet you have never experienced a full-blown uppercut, or a paralysing body fold takedown, have you?"

"Why the hell should I?!"

At the back of the car where she sat alone, Kagome shifted restlessly. A foreboding rumble was spreading out inside her stomach, almost in sync with the low growling of the car's engine.

The construction site was in an untouched, forested area against the sprawling backdrop of the Midoriyama mountains, at least a kilometre away from the nearest settlement. A good spot for a scenic vacation. And also the habitat of animals and spirits alike. It was likely an unseen presence living in the area had felt threatened by the deforestation, and was punishing the construction workers who had dared interfere with its home.

Jyohaku spoke in grave tones with the surveyor, who was pointing to an old, eroded bridge. _If_ one could call it a bridge. The gloomy, weathered-beaten stone formation looked like it had become one with the forest; green with moss, lichens and whatnot, and choking with tangled vines. The river it used to overlook, one of Arakawa’s networks, had long since dried. 

The bridge was also emanating a strong aura of depression, and though someone had covered it with a dark shroud.

"Higurashi," Jyohaku called out. Kagome trained her head close to listen beside him, as Atsushi eyed them suspiciously from where he stood. "It all started when they started to demolish the bridge. This is even more serious than I thought." He paused. "Two people have actually died in the hospital."

Kagome tensed, lines appearing on her forehead as she stared at the bridge ahead. 

"There's an unclean presence corroding the bridge," she informed. "I can sense an overwhelming glut of emotions all around—anger, sorrow, _guilt_ —so much so that I can't name some of them. The presence has pretty much anchored itself to this place."

Jyohaku nodded. Kagome's clairvoyant abilities were not mystifying—in fact it was one of the many things his father had divulged to him, subsequent to meeting her for the first time. His wrinkly hand that held a sake cup had quivered in excitement as he related how a family had arrived at their shrine with their troubled daughter. Her eyes bore a startling wealth of _reiki_ , a raging fire that was as bright as it was subdued. Barely did Jyohaku know that he was about to witness it first-hand.

Kagome and Atsushi stood in attentive deference as he initiated the ceremony. There were standing under a makeshift shelter erected by the workers, where an altar of offerings had been set up beforehand for the priest to bless.

He bowed low to the offerings, folded fan clutched in his hand. A low, intense liturgy murmured from his lips, as ancient words reverberated throughout the quiet shelter. It gave Atsushi the strangest chills, like something born from his deepest fears.

Slowly the apprentices tailed from behind as Jyohaku neared the bridge. He circled its perimeter, chanting as he shook a _harai-gushi_ , or purification wand, vehemently in the act of hitting.

Kagome bit her lower lip. It was slightly bruised. She had been biting it more than she realized. The heavy sensation in her chest had hardened into something almost tangible, like a small stone of anxiety. With each step forward, the wind started to moan louder, ominous and foreboding, and she saw Atsushi quaking beside her, his teeth chattering.

She had never felt so nervous performing a _harae_ before. Something was different this time. Something that was capable of inflicting hurt, of inflicting _death._

 _When was the last time I felt something like this?_

Had that been ten years or so, fighting demons in that parallel world inside the old well? But it had been so long ago, its truth refuted even by her closed ones—and it scared her now how eerily similar her body was reacting to the current circumstances, the disturbingly familiar rush of cold blood, the tingling chill in her spine.

Suddenly a sharp gust whipped through them, the wind evolved into a whistling gale. The workers cried out as the makeshift shelter swayed and collapsed together with the altar of offerings. A bulldozer nearby turned over in the wind, crashing loudly in an explosion of sound.

"The heck—" Atsushi shouted. It began the moment the priest began sprinkling salt at the bridge. He heard the loud cracking of branches around him, the air howling a strange song. The little hairs at the back of his neck prickled up. 

It was not a coincidence. Bulldozers do not crash from the wind in a place where people have mysteriously gotten sick and died, _out of coincidence._ Something was orchestrating these events, something he struggled to make sense from his logical understanding of the world.

And then he saw it, the _thing_ , right before his eyes and everything just shattered.

An apparition swirled before him, a dark haze in the figure of a man, except it did not look human—a pair of burning embers for eyes, pointed fangs of a beast, snow-white hair. It roared deeply a growl of a thousand lions, the unworldly sound twisting into the howl of the wind as it echoed within Atsushi's own body, permeating through each pore and orifice, until all he felt was the inevitable darkness, and the throat-gripping fear as his senses left him.

"Atsushi!" He barely heard his name as he buckled and crumpled to his knees.

"Do not touch him!" Jyohaku warned.

Kagome watched as Atsushi lifted his head, but his neck was oddly limp.

" _You humans will regret and pay for this destruction you have caused,"_ he snarled in a strange, deep voice. A threatening growl whirred from him.

Kagome stayed rooted to her spot, her mouth agape in sheer disbelief. She could see its true form—the evil presence that had been terrorizing the construction plot, and harmed anyone who dared to demolish its bridge. It hovered like an opaque, ghostly double-image over Atsushi's crouching body, with a malevolent aura that resisted strongly against her own.

She staggered a step backwards. It was _him_ , the enigmatic, formidable figure from her obscure days as a time-travelling _miko_. Her eyes travelled frantically as she tried to process the hazy details of his face. The mark of a crescent moon, those unmistakable cold eyes of gold, thin snarling lips. She could instantly recognize him in a crowd. In turn came a sequence of blurred images of their allied encounters in a fantastical, dream-like battle—a dizzy vortex of spilled blood and clashing swords, all centred around a lone, shimmering pearl.

 _It's impossible._ Her mind held back. _Did he die and somehow became a vengeful spirit?_

Kagome instinctively grabbed a holy arrow from her back, except there was no arrow, and she faltered in the realization of the present. Her lips trembled as she dared to utter his name.

"Sesshoumaru."

Atsushi's head shot up, an indiscernible expression on his face, somewhere between confusion and pain.

"You probably don't remember who I am," Kagome whispered, "but you need to stop this. Please, stop hurting the workers because it's not their fault."

 _"Destroy the bridge,"_ Sesshoumaru and Atsushi growled in one voice. " _And I will destroy you."_

Jyohaku deftly stirred into action. He whipped out a talisman, chanted a quick mantra and shot it towards Atsushi's face. Atsushi evaded with lightning speed, then burst into a roar as he pounced on him on all fours. He wiped the priest cold on the ground in an instant. Then he turned to the lone _miko_ behind, his eyes shining a beastly yellow.

Kagome grabbed the _harai-gushi_ that had fallen from Jyohaku's hand, and took a handful of salt from his pocket. She cast a glance towards his still face, her lips pursed in regret.

She turned to the possessed young man.

"You obviously don't respond to kind words," she spoke coldly, her temerity rising in her chest. "Listen, now! I'm giving you a choice: Evacuate Atsushi's body, or I will be forced to vanquish your spirit!"

The demon supplied with another defiant roar, a hasty, almost clumsy attempt to paw at her body. Kagome leapt backwards, her hand gripping the sacred wand even tighter. A drop of sweat trickled past her temple. She wiped it off with a brush of her arm, gasping.

Fighting with demons was no longer in her stride.

"I see you're still stubborn as ever, Sesshoumaru.” With an anguished cry, she dashed towards him. The salt threw over his inhuman eyes.

_I'm sorry, Atsushi, but this is going to hurt badly for you. Please forgive me!_

She raised the _harai-gushi_ above his head.

Jyohaku jerked back to consciousness. He blinked for a few seconds, then remembered terribly where he was and his purpose there. His surroundings had grown darker. Groaning, he lifted his head, then watched in paralyzed horror.

Higurashi. She was burning, her lithe body aflame with a dazzling soft light, suffused with warm pink. Her long hair waved afloat, her small face beholding a gentle calmness. He had never seen such a smile, shaped on her lips to convey a kind of compassion, a merciful kindness. No, not burning. She was _radiating_. He could not even move to shield his eyes from the bright vision.

Was this…the all-consuming glow of _reiki_ that had awed and intrigued his old man? The power of a true _miko_ , like shamans from an old era that had ceased to exist. He was witnessing it now, basking in her light. Kagome Higurashi. A wilful, and occasionally bad-tempered shrine maiden. The young lady in his father's tales. She had finally revealed herself to him.

Her body spun, and then she landed with a heavy whip of his _harai-gushi_ on Atsushi's body, the fraying paper streamers hitting with a loud, resounding _twack!_ Atsushi yelled in his own strangled voice as his body doubled over in pain. She whipped him again with unrelenting speed fueled by a frightening power. The boy had crouched himself into a foetal position on the ground, trying to protect himself futilely, his ear-piercing screams rewarding her every lash.

Jyohaku snapped from his reverie. The smile on her lips had disappeared, as did Bodhisattva's benevolence that was seemingly bestowed upon her mere moments ago. How long exactly had she been exorcising the boy?

"You will heed my words!" Her voice, turned cold, commanded. A spark of lightning crackled at the end of the wand, ripping through cloth. An unfamiliar glimmer washed in her eyes. "You _will_ release him and leave this place!"

"Higurashi!" Jyohaku shouted. His legs finally kicked, running to her in cold sweat. "Stop! You are going to kill Atsushi!"

She resisted against him with uncanny strength. "Jyohaku-sama!" she snapped. "Get me a vessel, and fill it with the soil under the bridge! Now!"

The priest regarded her with confusion at first, then left on hurried steps. Kagome bent down and shook Atsushi's shoulders, and even though he was semi-conscious, she knew the demon inside him could still hear her.

"Listen, Sesshoumaru! I'm going to exorcise and obliterate the devil out of you if you intend to drag this!"

 _"Enough…"_ Sesshoumaru's voice rasped from his lips. Kagome saw a dark instant of his face, felt the undulating waves of his fragile aura trying to reach towards hers, like the tendrils of a creeping plant. He was weak, wholly defeated from her terrible display of power. After all he was naught but a mere spirit now, and not the _daiyoukai_ that once intrigued her young self. The Sesshoumaru that withstood in her memories was not like this; he was omnipotent and obstinate, and he would not succumb to a mere _miko_.

Why? Why did they have to meet again under such circumstances?

Her cheeks were suddenly wet, and she wiped her tears off.

"Sesshoumaru, tell me, what holds you to that bridge?"

_"If you wish to vanquish this spirit, then now is an opportune moment."_

"Do you want to be free?" she gently asked him. She saw in the ambiguous haze, as his eyes slowly swept to her face, like faint beacons. "I can release you from your torment that attaches you to this place. I can purify the darkness that festers in your soul. You'll be a brand new person. But in return… In return, you must follow me."

Sesshoumaru hesitated. But he was almost fading into the orange pools of the setting sun, his form dissolving, leaving the material body. There was no longer an ounce of strength. She had obliterated what was left with her _reiki_.

_"You wish…for this Sesshoumaru's spirit to be enchained to yours?"_

She smiled at him. "Don't use such a solemn word. Think of it like… Like I'm tying a small red string around your finger, and mine."

_"...Binded to?"_

"Something like that." And then she leaned down to him, whispering as if imparting a small secret. "I can give you a new body too if you want. Not like this guy. This guy is a scaredy-cat. How about that?"

A withering breath seeped into him. _"I have died before. A second death is nothing to me."_

Kagome stared at the bridge ahead, darkening into a shapeless mass in the evening. She remembered the tumult of emotions she had felt when she first stepped there. Emotions that harboured within Sesshoumaru himself.

_What exactly did you go through, Sesshoumaru, to transpire like this?_

"Quick! You don't have much time left! Answer me!"

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes. Nothing. He had nothing to lose. To live through the centuries as a ghost. Time and purpose had become a hollow concept, as hollow as the gaping holes on his body that had promised upon his demise. Of course, the reason why he had adhered to this place was another matter, but that too, was a never-ending curse he had bequeathed to himself.

Even in death there was something to constantly seek, never content, never satisfied, always searching. Always _waiting_.

Was it possible to say that he was weary after all, after everything?

The warmth of her aura enveloped him further, once dangerous but now comforting, pulling him away from the bleak confines of his prison. It did not seem like a bad place. Perhaps she was Death after all. The real Death, and not the one who had viciously ripped his soul out from his throat.

_"Do with me what you will."_

Kagome smiled, as she cradled Atsushi's body into her arms. "Everything will be alright," she whispered in his ear.

The priest appeared behind her. In his hand was an urn he had collected from the collapsed rubble.

She took the urn, and Jyohaku's lips pursed into a grim line.

"I don’t understand why you're doing this. But Higurashi, that thing. That thing is dangerous."

"Then why did you accede to my request?”

She put up a hand before he could retort. "Hush. You just have to turn back and not look. Then you can't say that you witnessed your apprentice commit an act of heresy, can you?" 

Seeing his incredulous face, Kagome fell into laughter, her demeanour worlds apart from the furious, nearly _senseless_ person who almost killed her friend moments ago. "Oh if you think he's dangerous now, you should have seen him five hundred years ago."

Jyohaku resisted at first, then gave up and turned back. Inari Ōkami was probably going to curse him a thousand-fold for allowing it to happen. He shook his head with disappointment not just for her, but for himself. The priest route was really not cut out for him.

He did not see, but Sesshoumaru did. In his own quiet, withering state, his spirit watched as Kagome straightened herself on the grass, in an upright meditative pose. Her hands clasped together in a prayer as her lips moved in a chant, her figure slowly bathing in the dying glow of the sun.

To whom was she beseeching to, and what exactly, he did not know. He only knew the warmth of her aura, further infusing into him. He sealed her face into his memory. Seal her face, like he had sealed Rin's.

When he opened his eyes an eternity later, he was staring at a white ceiling, naked, and the room smelled like a pig-sty.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: I honestly can't believe I finally got this chapter out! It was longer than I expected. This was supposed to be the 2nd chapter! Wahahahahah! Anyways you must have realized the dark flavour for this latest offering—I had very much intended it to be that sombre. Everyone's inner monologues was just running around and we're having insights to everyone's pasts and motivations. I also made some references to previous chapters; I'm guessing it reads differently now.
> 
> I also left some ambiguous hints on Sesshoumaru's past, hehe. A little bit goes a long way. Anyhoo because I'm so glad this chapter is done, I'm being generous by rewarding y'all with another update! Two chapters in one go! Hoohoo! Reviews always make my day, and feel free to ask me anything. ;) Lucy out.


	10. Happily Ever After

#  **Happily Ever After**

"Morning, Amari-chan!" Kagome greeted as she arrived at the Yukino Shrine. "Today I brought extra food for lunch! There's fried _aburaage_ and _onigiri_ to pass around!"

Amari giggled. "You're so cheery today." Her smile promptly disappeared when she saw their priest arriving shortly after at the _torii_ gate. She busied herself with raking the dead leaves.

Jyohaku stopped near the steps towards the entrance hall. He placed his shrine sandals onto the floor, beside the pair of Nike running shoes he was wearing.

Kagome gave him a long once-over, not bothering to conceal the leery smile on her face. The head priest was decked out in a windbreaker and track pants, both in crisp black.

"Morning ladies," he said.

"Morning! Did you take a jog before coming? It's the second time this week." Kagome's eyes lit up. "Hold your horses. Could it be—you're making a return to the ring? All hail the return of Onizuka the Terrible!"

"Yes, and who's going to watch over the shrine while I do that? A pair of ditzy girls?"

"Hey, you just called us "ladies" a second ago."

Jyohaku rolled his eyes as he unzipped his windbreaker. A wistful smile came to his lips. "My days of glory are over. Onizuka the Terrible has since died. I miss the active lifestyle, that's all."

Kagome pulled Amari by her shoulders, who was still occupying herself with sweeping. "Amari-chan. Don't you think the priest looks especially _dashing_ in sports attire?" 

Amari dropped her rake, forced to assess his full figure upfront. 

"I—I wouldn’t know."

"Kirihata, you’re all red again," Jyohaku pointed. "Are your allergies acting up?"

"I told you I'm only allergic to cats,” she dared to answer. “Besides it gets red only when _you_ see it."

"Wait. Are you possibly…"

He bent forward to scrutinize Amari's face. It was too much. She squealed and hid herself behind Kagome, grabbing onto her friend's shoulders.

"…allergic to me?" Jyohaku finished.

Amari finally bolted into the shrine. "I'm sorry, but I think I'll go sort out the books in the archives now!"

Kagome giggled as she watched her friend's antics. "She's adorable, isn't she? Like a soft, fluffy kitten. And you're so dumb it's unbelievable."

"Whatever." Then he turned to Kagome and raised his eyebrows. "Well, what is it?"

Kagome averted from his suspicious look. "What?"

"You've been in a good mood recently. Also, you've gained back a healthier pallor. I remembered you were somewhat pale all these while."

 _That's because Sesshoumaru isn't feeding much like he used to,_ Kagome thought. 

"Tell me the truth," Jyohaku spoke, with an aura of dead seriousness. "Did you win the lottery?"

"Jyohaku-sama!"

The priest smoothed back his unruly curls of hair and smiled good-naturedly. "You know that good things must be shared. Now be a good apprentice and seek out some lottery numbers from that spirit you're siring, on my behalf."

"I swear, you're horrible." And then an equally horrible idea came to Kagome. She rubbed her hands gleefully. 

"But guess what. I may just have the perfect compromise for you. Amari-chan invited me for a date next weekend. She's dying to introduce me to her brother. If you come along, it would be a double—"

"No can do. You youngsters can go ahead and have your fun." 

" _Youngsters?_ Hello, stop acting like a boomer! No wonder you're still single and living with thirteen cats! If that isn't a spinster's life, I don't know what is!"

"Excuse me! Did you know women used to throw their panties into the ring every time Onizuka the Terrible was performing?"

"That's because they didn't know your crappy personality!" Kagome stomped away. "Fine. No lottery numbers for you."

Jyohaku snorted and folded his hands tightly. "Stupid apprentice. You're always full of funny ideas, aren't you?"

"That's because I've got an equally stupid priest to serve."

Later that night, Kagome stepped out from her bathroom, towelling her hair dry. Her house was flooded with lights and the TV was blaring with another re-telecast. Yet something was missing.

Sesshoumaru was nowhere to be seen. Not since she returned from work.

A shadow flitted around the corner towards his room. She heard a faint tinkling of laughter. "Sesshoumaru?" She caught up to it, only to be greeted by empty silence. 

Gods, she thought, am I hearing and seeing things?

After returning from the backyard, Kagome concurred that she was indeed the only person home.

She switched off the TV. Her foot kicked something on the floor. It rolled with a shrill sound under the couch, a small, cylinder-shaped object. Kagome bent over, trying her darndest to reach it. When she pulled it out, it was coated with an ugly layer of dust.

It was the amulet she had given to Sesshoumaru to wear on his neck. Kagome gasped. It rolled further in her palm. The soil from the urn was still inside.

* * *

_Kagome groaned aloud. "It's so heavy! It probably weighs like a ton!"_

_The taijiya laughed. "Oh stop overreacting, Kagome-chan. My Hiraikotsu probably weighs as much as your heavy backpack."_

Kagome stirred from sleep. She blinked at her dark ceiling. Her mind was strangely lucid, but her alarm clock glowed a green 3:15. She knew she had dreamt of something, but could not for her life, remember.

She opened her bedroom door and strode out, feeling for the amulet in her pyjamas' pocket as she did so.

Sesshoumaru's figure was leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass of her Hokkaido grape juice in his hand.

“Hey,” she grunted.

He graced her with an indifferent lift of his nose.

Kagome took a deep breath. Then she hastily revealed the amulet. It swung from its cord like a pendulum. 

"I found this on the floor. How do you go around without it? I thought you needed it."

"Seems not, does it?" He saw her confused look, and continued to sip his juice.

"Fine," she said, grinding her jaw. "Anyway, would you mind switching off the electrical appliances when there's nobody at home? The bills have been racking up. Maybe it’s high time you start thinking about getting a job outside. Help me with expenses. We _are_ living in Tokyo after all."

Sesshoumaru set his glass aside and folded his arms neatly. "I have to decline that suggestion. I very much would like to prolong my role and responsibilities as a house husband."

"A _what_? When did you learn that term? That's the most ludicrous thing you've ever said."

"Does it shock you? It shocks me as well that you require me to go out and work."

Wait, I get it, Kagome thought. Sesshoumaru's never worked a day in his life. He used to be a Lord, remember?

" _Miko_ ," Sesshoumaru said, looking up to address her properly now. "What exactly are your concerns?"

"I'm returning to bed."

" _Miko_."

"I need to work overtime tomorrow. Probably burn my weekends as well. Ah, this is the life I have chosen after all."

Sesshoumaru did not want to follow her. He wanted to stay in the kitchen and help himself to the fridge. But despite her strained countenance, underneath the _miko'_ s emotions were like a raging sea in a storm. Her heart revolted like a bird thrashing in its cage, and its violent reverberations were echoing in his chest.

So it has come to this, he told himself. Why? Why did she constantly have to feel so much? They came like a barrage of arrows targeting his hollow self. Emotions that were unfamiliar to him, _human_ emotions. And for some, they lingered on like a bad aftertaste.

Sesshoumaru found his feet moving on their own accord. Kagome shut the door in his face. She pushed her shaking hands onto the door, as it represented her churning, roiling emotions.

No more, she could take it no more.

"I brought you here for a reason, Sesshoumaru! Not because I wanted a _house husband!_ Not because I wanted someone to do my chores!" She slid down to the floor, choking back tears from nowhere, her chest busting. "I don't want you to take care of me. I want... All I want are _answers_..."

"We have been through this conversation countless times." He knelt from the other side, his voice empty, void of emotion. And yet he felt anything but.

"You never tell me anything, anything that's conclusive. I'm always here waiting like a complete fool."

"Perhaps because you never ask the right questions."

She sobbed. "Stop it, Sesshoumaru. You know well what I mean."

There was no sound from the other side. Kagome wiped her tears with regret. Yes, she was a fool. What was she expecting after all? It was all nothing but wishing thinking. Binding his soul to her, wishing him to adhere to her orders, wishing she could have her closure.

"And they lived happily ever after," came his voice quietly.

She lifted her head.

"And they lived happily ever after," Sesshoumaru said again. "Twas the ending of your feudal fairytale that you so desperately seek. The _taijiya_ marries the monk, the hero gets his deserving accolades, and the orphan gains a new family."

"But you said—the fire in the village—"

"Yes. My half-brother assisted to save those trapped underneath the rubble with his fire-rat robe." A poignant pause came. "And I remember this because Rin… Rin was one of the survivors."

Rin! Yes, there was a little girl who travelled alongside with him. So she too, was saved?

"Is this really the truth?" her voice quaked.

He shook his head behind the door. "It is the truth that you need," he told her.

The door creaked open. Kagome stood meekly behind it, and his eyes instantly sought hers; red-rimmed, sunken with tears. _Embarrassed_. Something inside him leapt. Something deep inside that was as indiscernible as the bond she held over him. 

The _miko_ gazed at her feet, her hair hiding her face.

"Supress your aura. Do not retaliate," Sesshoumaru ordered. And then suddenly she was flushed against his chest, as his arms surrounded her. 

He had always repelled from touching her. But here they were, locked in an embrace. She could hear his heartbeat—a vivid rhythm. It was steady, certain, and soothed her frantic own. She breathed him in, not wanting to let go.

He held her tighter, seeing that she had not hurt him. Her body was small, but right against his. His lips lowered near her ear. " _It will be alright._ "

 _That's right._ That was what she had told him when she held him the first time. _That everything would be alright._

She let her tears run freely in his warmth, let her bygones be bygones. She wanted to believe in him. If she did, would everything disappear? Would the past remain as it was, unraveled, its secrets locked in a distant chamber? Even if… Even if a ghost from her past was right before her?

"A happily ever after," Kagome murmured in his embrace. "For everyone, but us." 

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAYYYYY A HUGGG! Wow! Can't believe I have 11 chapters out of this fic. This is the longest I've been for a commitment-phobic writer.


	11. Arc II: Assimilation of the Human Culture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy. Welcome to the second arc! Yessss this is turning into a slow-burn romance that is killing even the author… Here Kagome realizes everyone around her is slowly, but surely, changing. Things are happening too fast, especially Sesshoumaru's evolution! XD 

#  **Arc II: Assimilation of the Human Culture**

Kagome placed her items at the cashier. A bag of rice, a carton of milk, a bottle of mirin sauce, and a packet of _edamame_ beans. The essentials. She fingered a box of Pocky at a nearby rack. She hemmed and hawed for a while, then went ahead with two boxes. She was no longer living by herself, after all.

She smiled at the young man ringing up the items at the register. "You're alone, Ichiro-kun. Let me guess, Asano's on leave?"

He smirked. "Who's Asano again?"

Kagome laughed, until she caught a glint of his shiny nametag. Her hand covered her open mouth. "Oh my god, you've been promoted."

Immediately he stuck his arms to his sides and stood at attention, military-style. "Manager Ichiro Kirihata at your service, madam!" he declared proudly, earning a giggle from her. Then his posture relaxed. "I worked really hard just so I could say that, y'know."

"You're a meticulous and hard worker, Ichiro-kun. You deserve it! Congratulations! Say, how long have you been working here, anyway?"

Ichiro hummed as he wondered aloud, licking the set of pierced rings on the bottom left of his lip. It was a habit he had whenever he was thinking, Kagome had noticed. Ichiro was probably the kind of bloke mothers would warn their daughters to stay away from. Not Kagome. She had never been one to judge books by their unreliable covers. Besides she could not help it—aside from the fact that Ichiro looked like a poster child for glam rock, he was actually a pretty down-to-earth guy.

"Hmm. Around four years ago, give or take. Shortly before you moved into the neighbourhood, Kagome-sama."

He glanced up to her. Four years ago. Wow, had it been that long? It felt only like yesterday when the store-door bell had chimed that incessant ring— _ting a ling a ling!—_ and a young lady had stepped in whilst he was arranging the egg cartons. It was the first time anyone dressed in a traditional _miko_ attire had entered the store. He remembered it was a summer's day, because her red _hakama_ was billowing from the summer breeze. Needless to say an egg carton slipped and fell to the floor, and she had cried, running to help. Suddenly, like a dream, their fingers were mingling together in the runny yolk on the cold floor of the Family Mart store. With a bittersweet twist in his chest, he realized it was not just the eggs that had fallen.

How ironic, of all people. He probably looked like the devil beside her.

"Kagome-sama," he said, trying to adopt a casual tone, taking his own sweet time to pack her peas, "The guy that sometimes comes with you when you do your shopping. Is he your boyfriend?"

Her lips thinned into a tight line, and he immediately regretted his words. _Ichiro, you're an idiot, aren't you_ , she was probably thinking—

"I-I'm sorry if I made you mad with my question. I'm not trying to pry or anything, really—"

Kagome shook her head kindly. "It's alright, I'm not mad. You're not the first person to ask, you know. The old aunties in the residents' committee especially are always fishing information about him. It's a small town, after all. In fact I'm perplexed that you hadn't asked sooner."

Kagome clapped her hands together and sucked in her breath. "Alright, so here's the scoop!

"Number one, he's not a foreigner or a hāfu, but every bit a true-blooded Japanese.

"Number two, he's not as scary as he looks—you _can_ talk to him. I promise you he won't bite.

"Number three, those long glossy tresses are the real deal! Please refrain yourself from patting!"

Ichiro raised his thin eyebrows. That was a smorgasbord of information to take in. Does she tell that to everyone who enquires about him? 

"So what does he do, cosplay for a living? Like, Sailor Moon?"

She smiled, shrugging. "That's what everyone wants to believe."

He accepted her cash and handed the change thoughtfully. "So…is he your boyfriend?"

"I guess you can say he is a _friend_ ," she said. "Although I have no idea what the guy is thinking of sometimes. He never shares anything with me, you know. Even though we've been living together for a year now…"

Ichiro slammed the counter. "Wait, you're living together?!" 

_I used to feel envious whenever I pass by the park._

Kagome smiled to herself as she took small, but purposeful strides into the park. It was part of the journey home from the Family Mart, around five minutes worth of walking to her house.

_Especially in the evening, when it's filled with blissful lovers._

As usual the park was crowded, with people passing through after work. It was a popular place for couples as well, the strategically-placed benches offering a suggestion of privacy among the shaded paulownia trees.

The bags in her hands were starting to get heavy, but she dogged on. She was going to reach home soon anyway.

 _It doesn't bother me much now though. Maybe, it's because I don't feel as lonely anymore_.

" _Gaikoku no miko_ ," called a voice from behind.

Kagome turned her head and saw Sesshoumaru standing in the middle of the path. He was wearing a Christmas knitted sweater they had gotten from a flea market, all red and kitsch.

"Hey," she said. "What did I tell you, you _need_ to stop calling me tha—"

She stumbled when she caught his full figure, and tripped over her own foot. He caught her back right away before she could fall on the pathway. A few joggers in the park delivered them strange glances.

"Sesshoumaru!" she exclaimed, her eyes round with shock as they darted across his face. "What happened to your _hair_?"

Gosh. It was not the fact that they had bumped into the park after work—she was now, after all, tolerant of the idea of him gallivanting out on his own (provided he dressed decently and _run_ should he encounter suspicious men in dark-blue)—but the simple, lone fact that he had done something to himself.

His long mane of silver tresses. They were silky-soft, precious to the touch. She knew this because she would secretly allow them to slip through her fingers each time he fell into an occasional deep sleep. They were gone now, replaced by a modern layered haircut. 

Immediately Kagome was thrown in an instant state of denial over his new image. His hair had been mercilessly chopped right up to his shoulders.

"I just returned from the hairdresser's," Sesshoumaru proclaimed. As though going to the hair salon was something to be proud of.

"Why?"

"Is it a concern?"

"I thought you might have some sort of attachment to it. You had it with you your whole life, didn't you?"

"The hairdresser said it is the current trend. And this Sesshoumaru needs to be ahead of the times."

Kagome smacked her forehead.

He then gestured his hand towards her supermarket bags, and she imparted half of them to him. His fingers brushed against hers as she did so. She momentarily stilled, waiting for him to jump or do a backflip, but he did not seem to notice.

They continued to walk through the park quietly.

"Those committee aunties are going to have a field day talking about your new look," Kagome said. "Are you trying to pick on girls now?"

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin. "To know your enemy, be your enemy," he replied. Kagome quirked an eyebrow. "Sun Tzu."

"…Enemy?"

"Once I have fully assimilated myself into the human culture, this Sesshoumaru will embark on his conquest for world domination."

"Sheesh, I remember distinctly someone said he would never blend himself among humans." 

"I remember no such thing."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "Yes, you forget when it's convenient, don't you? Anyway, it's just a haircut. You still have a long way from your conquest."

Kagome then stole a peek. _Well it's not just a haircut, actually. I admit he really looks different now._

Sesshoumaru's jawline seemed more pronounced, lending his face a more masculine effect. The androgynous quality of his features still retained however. He was still undeniably beautiful to her.

Perhaps even more.

She frowned to herself, hashing her own thoughts. She considered her opinion of him again.

Was it disturbing to admit he was looking _sexually_ attractive now? His looks had always been admirable, but it never spoke to her on an intimate level. Now she was viewing him from a different lens. In which he was reflected no more of the _daiyoukai_ from her past, but instead a new man in her present.

 _Or_ perhaps it was just the angle from where she stood. That had to be it.

She blew out her breath as she continued her pace. The women walking by were dishing out second, even third glances to Sesshoumaru. It was not the usual frightened-out-of-their-skin look either.

"Look at all the girls ogling at you now. They must think you're some kind of model." 

"A model."

"Yeah," Kagome said, grinning over the unlikeliness. "You probably make a good one."

The birds cawed their way home under the darkening, dusky-blue sky. 

"I know this sounds pretty sudden,” she then said in a serious voice. “But I'm honestly craving for a butterscotch sundae right now. With caramel bits and a big pretzel on top."

He nodded agreeably. "I know what your strange cravings signify. It is that time of the month."

She hit him with a grocery bag when she understood his meaning. "Pervert!"

Sesshoumaru remained passive as he looked up, then held up his palm. A wet drop pelted his cheek softly. "It's drizzling," he said.

"Let us hurry home."

 _It's distressing, really,_ Kagome wrote in her diary after they had reached home and she had taken a shower. The melancholic scent and sounds of the passing rain gently filtered into her room.

_Over the past year he has learnt so many things about me. My turbulent mood swings, my occasional pet peeves. (Like the sound of a fingernail scratching against the tatami mat. He does this occasionally to annoy me.)_

_How I like my steak done, how I like the windows slightly ajar when it's raining. Even my monthly cycle, which he has shamelessly mentioned._

_And yet... And yet if you were to ask me one thing about him that I've learnt, aside that he does the chores perfectly and watches too much TV, is that…there is nothing._

_I know nothing about this person whom I've invited into my home, and ultimately into my life._

Sesshoumaru walked to the living room. He saw that Kagome was already huddled at the couch with a blanket, whilst eating from a box of Pocky.

"Hey, they're showing my all-time favorite movie," she was saying without moving her eyes from the screen. He sank into the couch beside her.

" _Shrek_ again? Do we not have this on DVD?"

She started quoting lines along with the characters.

_I don't know what drives him, or what his plans are for the future. Although I do hope his world conquest talks are only but a joke._

Kagome noticed the way his eyes were studying her snack with quiet interest. She waved the box at him. 

"You want some?" He nodded, and she shared him a stick. "So are you fully assimilated with our food culture yet, Sesshoumaru?"

The biscuit stick crunched between his canine teeth, glinting sharp into view. "This Sesshoumaru is making significant progress."

Kagome smiled. "Okay, next time I'll try to be the one to whip something up for you. Maybe something exotic. Like Middle Eastern food. Like _shawarma_."

" _Shamarwa_ ," he slowly followed after her.

"No, look at my tongue. _Sha-war-ma."_

" _Shamarwa."_

"Oh god, you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?"

_But for some reason, I always feel reassured when he's next to me._

_"What kind of knight_ are _you?" Princess Fiona exclaims in an exasperated manner. Of which Shrek turns from the door to answer in a confident swagger, "One of a kind."_

Kagome laughed, her hair tumbling down her heaving shoulders, even though she had probably watched the scene a million times. And then barely half an hour later, her head had lolled back on the couch, and she was all but fast asleep. Sesshoumaru took the remaining rest of her Pocky to eat until the movie ended.

Then he took her carefully in his arms, and carried her to bed.

"Sesshoumaru…" she groaned softly in her sleep as he tucked in her blankets. 

He dipped his face close to hers. "Yes?" 

"G'night."

"Goodnight, _miko_."

_Reassured, and warm. And I haven't felt like that in a long time._

_To be continued…_

**A/N:** A year has passed between them, and Sesshoumaru has finally upgraded from a mere housemate to “friend”. XD


	12. Tokyo Aqua Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourite chapters, most definitely. A mix of fluff, mystery and darkness.

#  **Tokyo Aqua Park**

_‘I betrayed him.’_

_Rin played with the kanzashi hair pin in her hands, twirling it around with her fingers. It was cast in gold, the ornament shaped like a flower, sparkling with at least three different jewels._

_She was thirteen now, and pretty enough to win a considerable amount of suitors. But only one was daring enough to catch a good hold on her, and that was Magoichi from the Saika family. And how could she deny him? The Saika clan was a household name in the Edo villages. They were prosperous, influential, and wielded frightening political power. Rin was a nobody. She should be_ _honoured_ _they would want an orphan like her to be part of their family._

_The hairpin gleamed in the lamplight._

_‘I betrayed him and he called me an ingrate. He would never forgive me.’_

_“Rin-chan!” someone called from outside. “The carriage is here to pick you up!”_

_Rin started and her hand gripped in reflex. Using a comb, she wound her hair up and tight, before slipping the hair pin through. She smoothed her sides of her hair in the mirror, and found herself unable to look in her own eyes. She clasped her hands over her shuddering chest._

_“Please forgive me,” she whispered to no one. Then she turned and headed out in the sun and to the carriage, which would bring her to Magoichi and her new life._

* * *

“Are you excited yet?” she was asking him inside the train. “Tokyo Aqua Park, I mean.”

Sesshoumaru brushed his palms against the feel of twill on his chinos trousers. The landscape of Tokyo, a congested hodgepodge of tall structures and squat buildings against the backdrop of dusky-blue mountains zoomed past his vision through the windows. The rolling slopes of Mount Fuji were the only things his eyes could recognize.

“I am, as you are.”

“It gets really packed on weekends. That's why I took a weekday leave from work.” Then her head ducked sheepishly beside him. “The priest isn't really happy about it though, but shoot him. Anyway, I know this sounds odd, but he wants you to pick out some lottery numbers for him.”

An unfettered look of disdain crossed his features, his lips curling, his nose flaring. It was the same expression he had upon meeting Ichiro for the first time, as though some threat was rearing its head.

“What kind of person is he?” he asked quietly.

“The priest?” Kagome replied in surprise, for Sesshoumaru had never expressed interest to the people in her life. “Well, to put it mildly, he’s an asshole. Which just proves a good face doesn't necessarily constitute a good personality. Now another perfect example would be _Ichiro_ , the young manager from Family Mart. Despite his unconventional appearance, you’ll never expect him to be so friendly and mild-mannered.”

Sesshoumaru huffed. “It does not matter. They cannot hold a candle to this Sesshoumaru.” 

“I’m amused you would even compare yourself to them.”

He fixed her with a queer look. “ _Miko_. You represent the sun. And all of these planets will naturally revolve around you. As long as they behave in this life, no harm shall befall upon them.”

He spoke with such an emotionless conviction in his voice, as though it was the one and resolute truth, but it only served to confuse her. And his last sentence, _no harm shall befall upon them_ —what did that even mean?

“Are you a planet, Sesshoumaru?” she teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

“I am better than a planet. I am the hydrogen that ignites you.”

To which Kagome snickered out loud, saying, “I’d like to believe that I was already burning brightly before you came. Wait, that’s our stop!”

* * *

They came here to see the dolphins after all, and Kagome had not seen them in more than a decade. They sat through the open-air dolphin show, of which its attendees were mostly made of eager tourists taking shade under their umbrellas.

The dolphins’ backs glistened under the sun as they leapt out of the water to perform their tricks. The trainers threw them their rewards from a bucket of herrings. Each time the dolphins landed back underwater, crying shrilly, a big splash would drizzle over the audience. Kagome would giggle and clap her hands.

Beside her Sesshoumaru watched through the whole spectacle with a raised eyebrow. It was his first animal show, to say the least.

They visited the other parts of the aquarium park, visiting the different kinds of aquariums that showcased various water habitats. From penguins to turtles, the crowd proved to be a hassle even on a weekday, and Kagome found herself clutching on Sesshoumaru’s arm several times. After she apologized to him for the third time, Sesshoumaru sighed and held her hand securely, lest they get separated.

They managed to squeeze themselves on a bench before the impressive viewing gallery of the Ocean Habitat. Enjoying a hushed moment, their eyes soaked in the mesmerizing schools of fishes traversing through the waters languorously, a couple of large Manta rays near the surface, a lone hammerhead shark at the corner.

Kagome found herself yawning after a while. “I couldn't get a wink last night,” she said. “I keep hearing footsteps on the roof. I think we have a raccoon living up there, or something. Been going on for months.” 

“So you've noticed it already.”

“The racoon?”

“The _zashiki warashi_.”

Kagome felt as if he had splashed a bucket of cold water on her head. A _zashiki warashi?_ Wasn’t that a kind of— 

“You mean a _child youkai!_ In my house?” Suddenly all those flashbacks made sense—the flitting shadows, laughter in the night. She gripped her clammy hands. For how long had it made her house its home? Sesshoumaru knew about it and yet he had told her nothing.

“You know what they say about those things, Sesshoumaru. It brings fortune to the owner but misfortune will befall if it decides to leave the house. Please don't scare it away.”

“On the contrary. I believe it likes me. The _zashiki warashi_ has been lending me strength. Did it occur to you that I have become much stronger?”

Kagome nodded glumly. “Yes, you don’t feed as regularly and you don't need the amulet anymore. Sometimes I wonder if…”

Suddenly Sesshoumaru stood up. “The human traffic is increasing," he observed. "We should head to somewhere less disruptive.”

They ended at a dark, quiet section of a jellyfish showcase. The tanks were equipped with a colourful lighting effect that would change every minute. Floating before them was a lone Portuguese man-of-war, its long, deadly tentacles trailing under itself. Ethereal and diaphanous, it bobbed gently, its luminescent body glowing in gradient colours.

Sesshoumaru turned back to her. “You were saying?”

Kagome rubbed her arm self-consciously. “I just thought that when the time comes, you might just pack your bags and leave one day to live independently. Of course, that has always been at the back of your mind, hasn't it? I mean, despite your talk of being a house-husband and all that—”

“You fool.” There was a spike of anger in Sesshoumaru’s voice. “Why do you seem unaware of the implications of the binding ritual? The terms are not that simple.”

His eyes turned flat and hard-set. “What did you sacrifice for me to be here?” She opened her mouth but he cut her. “I am not talking about those bones in the backyard. That was for my body. In exchange for my soul, what did you give up?”

Kagome peered down, biting on her lip. She should worry, shouldn’t she? After all she knew what she was getting into when she decided all this. And yet not even a sliver of fear wormed itself to her. She laughed weakly, scratching her cheek.

“I will eventually pay for it dearly one day, won't I?”

Sesshoumaru relapsed into another one of his silences. Kagome sighed. This was not what she had imagined when she planned to come here. She wanted the both of them to take a break and enjoy themselves. Not engaged in this depressing, sobering talk.

“Show me your right hand,” he suddenly said. 

She looked at him, perplexed, but nevertheless she offered her hand. He held it gently, then traced the line of scars along her finger.

“Has it been that long?” His eyes were casting an eerie light in the dimness. Eerie, but beckoning. “Do you… _yearn_ to feed me?”

She did not stop him when he pulled her behind a column, away from the main pathway. The small space was enough for just the both of them. Her body was braced flat against the side of the jellyfish tank, an arm gripped tightly.

He traced her fingers along his bottom lip, before his mouth trailed lower, the tip of his fangs grazing her. His eyes never left hers, never blinked.

“Your pulse is quickening,” Sesshoumaru observed in a quiet voice. “I sense…sheer anticipation, and…” Her hand quivered against his lips as the tip of his tongue brushed the skin of her throbbing pulse. Kagome shut her eyes, breathless. “It seems like your skin is sensitive here. It is causing an interesting blend of reactions. It makes you… _blush_.”

Her other hand pawed at his chest feebly. “What are you doing, Sesshoumaru?”

“What else makes you blush, _miko_? I wish to learn all there is about you.” His voice had sunk to a low whisper, deep, sultry, invoking dark stirrings in her. “ _K_ _agome Higurashi_. I wish to learn… _everything!_ ”

There was a sharp pain. Kagome released a strangled cry, watching him with a kind of horror, laced with something else, something borne from the sensations burgeoning in a secret place. The gradient lights from the tank softly illuminated his beautiful face, rendering his features otherworldly, as his lips gently drew blood from her veins. Orange-red, then slowly, indigo-purple. It felt as though he had reached inside her soul and gripped her. 

His face, along with the dancing fire in his bright eyes, would forever burn in her memories. 

**_To be continued..._ **


	13. The Double-Date

#  **The Double-Date**

Kagome placed the menu flat on the table. She sniffed hard, her nose still aching, a sudden case of sinus having attacked her last night. The place was bustling with spirited chatter, as to be expected on a weekend. Amari had chosen a popular café in the middle of town, apparently the same one she had been with Sesshoumaru a few months ago. 

Immediately her thoughts drew back to him. Things had been awkward ever since that trip to the aquarium. No, who was she kidding? Sesshoumaru was _never_ awkward. It was all her. Everytime she looked at him now, she would remember the sensations he had invoked, and an unstoppable blush would flush down to her neck. 

It felt like something had transpired between them that day. She could not put a finger to it, but something had unequivocally changed.

Amari's fingers jostled against her phone. Her brother was late—"on the way" as of thirty minutes ago. He was always late for everything! Maybe he was going to bail out last minute. She'll murder him if that happened.

Seated in front of her was Jyohaku, his tall figure blocking the view of the entrance. Amari observed the way he was bending over the main entrées in the menu, filled mostly with Western fare with tongue-twisting names. The priest's hair had received a fresh trim, his wayward, dark tendrils effectively weeded out. He lived alone and yet his coat looked painstakingly ironed. Dry-cleaners maybe? And she could smell light cologne.

She felt her spirit ebb out slightly. Why didn't Kagome-sama tell her _he_ was coming? Maybe she should have chosen a more traditional restaurant, she thought.

"So, Amari. Tell us what your brother’s like," Kagome went, toying with a fork.

"Oh,” she said. “He's an insurance agent. And he has his own apartment, quite close to where you live!"

An insurance agent? Someone confident and dauntless, she guessed. Therefore the total opposite of Amari. 

"Sorry, I'm late," someone muttered, walking towards their table. He was tall, hands shoved in a leather motorcycle jacket, a flu mask on his face. He sat at the empty chair beside Amari, in front of Kagome. "Got the sniffles, man. I almost didn't want to go."

He yanked his mask down, licking his lips, particularly at the set of pierced rings. Kagome covered her gasp.

Amari's brother was the Family Mart manager. _"Manager Ichiro Kirihata at your service, madam!"_ he had told her one time. Kirihata, like Amari Kirihata. Darn, she really needed to be more focussed.

"Eh, Ichiro-kun?" Kagome laughed nervously. "Small world, huh." Ichiro gaped wordlessly at the woman before him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Kagome-sama." He looked at his flabbergasted sister. "Amari's colleague. A _miko_ . Of course. I should have pieced the puzzle together." He shrugged and started laughing with her. "Small world? More like a small _town_." 

Amari stared at her brother, then at Kagome. "You guys know each other?"

"Of course! He works at Fa—"

Ichiro instantly leaned forward and clamped a hand onto Kagome's mouth. "Don't say it!" he whispered fiercely, "She doesn't know I'm working there!" And then he turned to Amari and laughed. "A client! She's just a client!"

Kagome laughed weakly along with him. Amari is really naive, she thought. There was no way Ichiro was an insurance agent, not with his bleached cornrows and piercings.

Jyohaku narrowed his eyes at the laughing trio, still gripping his menu and feeling the least amused. And what was he, some kind of chaperone for these youngsters tonight? _I'm just here because of the lottery numbers_ , he chanted to himself, _I'm just here because of the lottery numbers..._

 _"_ And lemme guess," Ichiro said, suddenly looking at him, "You must be the guy my sister keeps ta—" Amari kicked his shin under the table vehemently. 

"So how old are you, Ichiro-kun?" Kagome asked while their food was being served. She smiled at him with great amusement, not over the fact that the guy she was seeing almost every week at the Family Mart was the same one Amari had been dying to introduce. And he was having the sniffles too, just like her. The world must work on a strange system of coincidences, one after another.

"Twenty-eight," Ichiro answered, cutting his sirloin steak into small, precise cubes. What an odd manner to be eating steak, she thought. Odd but cute, like the person himself. 

"Twenty-eight? Twenty-eight, hmm, that's a nice number… What about your horoscope? Eh, your blood type? Based on your personality, I’m guessing you’re an O?" 

"Hold the phone, aren't you going to tell me your age first?" he probed with a slanted, curious smile.

Kagome stirred her strawberry milkshake testily. "Ichiro-kun, don't you know you're never supposed to ask a woman her age?" Then she laughed. "Just kidding. I'm three years your junior."

Watching their friendly banter, Amari was possessed with sudden courage. She drank her apple cider with her straw in haste, eyeing Jyohaku surreptitiously who was halfway with his fish and chips. 

"Jyohaku-sama, how old are you?" Her voice came away warbling and strained. Good move, she congratulated herself nevertheless. 

Jyohaku looked surprised to be pulled into the conversation. Wasn't he supposed to be an invisible spectator?

"Forty, forty-five?" She blabbered her guesses with her new-found spirit. Seeing the manner he was gripping his cutlery however, her face paled. Too young, she thought? "Fifty, fifty-five? I'm sorry, I'm not really good at guessing ages—"

Kagome was wheezing, trying hard not to burst in laughter. She whispered to her friend. "Amari, he's only in his mid-thirties!" 

Amari's hands flew over her mouth. "What? That can't be—the priest always behaved like our father—” 

"A priest?" Her brother sputtered his drink. "Amari, you really have weird kinks..."

"You're one to speak!" she retorted. “What with your questionable magazines…” Their shins wrestled under the table.

Kagome patted Jyohaku's back empathetically as he choked on his food. "Well Jyohaku-sama, since this is a kind of singles' meet, it wouldn't hurt to tell us what kind of women you're into, right?” she said. “I mean, ideally speaking."

 _Please say something along the lines of "quiet and shy" or "innocent and bashful",_ she thought.

Jyohaku wiped his mouth with a serviette. Darn it, he thought, Higurashi had trapped him with another one of her asinine ideas. 

He put on a solemn look. "Well, _ideally speaking_ she has to be someone I see as my equal. Someone _capable_ , if she is going to help me run the shrine."

Amari's eyes widened. Trust him to say something so sensible but gosh, so unromantic at the same time.

Suddenly Kagome slammed her hand on the table, eliciting a jolt from them. "No. You _can't_ do that. You can't desire a woman of your equal standing!"

He drank his coffee disinterestedly. "And why not, pray tell?"

"Because _I_ want to be your equal."

Jyohaku's eyebrows shot upwards over his cup. His dumbfounded expression diminished when Kagome's sudden dismay made sense to him, and he threw back his head in a loud, breathless laughter.

"And damn hell if I ever get married to a wife like you! Looks like you'll be an apprentice forever!" He wiped his tears. "Oh, that’s a good one, Higurashi."

Kagome began to weep in mock distress. "Great, I'm stuck in a freaking stalemate. Inari-okami, help me!"

Amari and Ichiro gazed down at their plates awkwardly.

Someone patted on Kagome's shoulder while they were leaving the restaurant. She whirled around, surprised to see a familiar face. It was Ayumi, an old friend she had not seen since her wedding.

"Hey Kagome-chan! I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Ayumi-chan! My gosh, how are you?"

Ayumi beamed. "I'm doing good, thank you." Her old friend looked wearier, with some weight under her chin. Her husband and son were standing at the cashier. Quickly Ayumi introduced her to her family, while Kagome gestured to her friends.

She looked over Kagome's shoulder at Ichiro.

"Geez. You guys are like the ultimate high-school sweethearts, huh," Ayumi said, nodding with a smile. "Still together all these years." 

"What?" she said, turning in confusion.

Ayumi pointed at him. "He's the guy who disrupted our school musical, isn't he? The shrine-worker dude. Or something."

"Ack, I think you got the wrong guy. That is entirely a different person you're talking about."

Ayumi gasped. "Oh really! My bad! Just that there's a really heavy resemblance. I'm so sorry!"

They laughed over it, then bade each other farewell, but not before sharing a short gossip over Eri’s choice of fiancé.

Jyohaku twisted his mouth and looked at his watch. “So what’s next?”

Karaoke!" The Kirihata siblings answered in unison, a strange fire alight in their eyes. Jyohaku wished he had not asked.

"This night has been more tiring than I expected," Ichiro said later outside the karaoke pub, as he smoked a cigarette over a railing. Their singing session had concluded and it was time to go home.

"Agreed. Especially when you have a pair of dead-drunk girls with you," Jyohaku said, lighting up his own stick. Both men shook their heads and sighed, as said girls clung on their backs sloppily, on the verge of collapsing.

"Hey, I'm not drunk!" Kagome snapped. She was slightly tipsy maybe, but definitely not drunk.

Ichiro smiled at her, then glanced at his sister doubling over a ditch, retching. Jyohaku knelt beside her, offering a napkin. Taking this as a sign, he strolled ahead with Kagome on the sidewalk. They took their time to breathe in the crisp, night air. 

For Ichiro, it was too close to be a coincidence. Was fate playing tricks on him? He could just imagine the gods laughing up above, watching him waltz into their plan. They knew, they knew he was in love with her and they just had to set this up...

He crammed his hands in his pockets. "So, your friend that you bumped into just now. She said that I looked familiar?"

"Yeah. Like an old friend."

"An old friend or an old ex?" He had meant it as a joke of course, but she instantly blushed. He bit his tongue—her flustered face had lowered his guard for a moment, he could hear the gods snickering—and for a while he wondered if there was any element of truth in his suggestion. She was not telling him anything more, though.

He coughed behind his mask. "Do you want to, you know, exchange numbers? We could meet up again, even though I know we kinda meet regularly at the store, but what I mean is—"

She giggled. "It's okay. I'm totally fine with the idea. I've always thought you're a cool guy, Ichiro. A little shy, but still cool. Somehow I'm glad it's you who turned out to be Amari's brother."

They looked at each other's eyes, unable to stifle their winsome smiles, awkward but pleased, so very pleased.

Suddenly Kagome’s face changed. She had felt a quiet rippling in her senses and stared at something up ahead on their path.

Sesshoumaru was standing in the far distance.

Even from where she stood, she could see his stare boring straight into them. One half on his face was cloaked in the nightly shadows, the other half glowing in the colourful, blinking neon lights of the drinking establishments lining the pavement. The memory back at the aqua park suddenly surged back into her mind, and she briefly closed her eyes.

She clutched her bag closer to her and hesitated. "Sorry Ichiro, but I gotta go. I had a great time tonight though. I’ll call you, I promise.”

A breeze passed him as she ran off, leaving behind her fragrance and the echoing of her voice in his ears. Ichiro saw as Sesshoumaru drilled his gaze towards him, even though Kagome was already at his side.

A cold shiver suddenly spooked him, the cool breeze turned chilling. It felt as if the strange man wanted him to melt and disintegrate at that very spot.

* * *

" _Tonkotsu ramen_?"

Kagome stood stiffly, staring at the steaming bowl on the dining table. On usual evenings she would have scarfed it down without a second nudge. But her stomach was still swimming with the night’s spaghetti and beer. She could not possibly fit in another bowl of noodles, can she?

She peered at Sesshoumaru sitting at the table. He had arranged his hands in a steeple that hid a good portion of his face, in a way that only his eyes, sharply scrutinizing her, could be seen.

She blinked. When did he learn to be so...

"Eat," he ordered in a domineering tone.

Kagome sat down docily, and picked up her chopsticks. She managed a flimsy smile at him but his expression remained cold. What was happening? And what was that heavy, stifling tension in the air?

Something pricked the back of her mind. No, she vaguely knew why he was acting in that manner. But it was such a ridiculous thought that she quickly pushed it away. 

Indignation filled her. Kagome soldiered through her meal even though she was close to throwing up. She would not show him her weakness, nor the slight guilt inside her—a pity, really because the delicious full-bodied flavours of the _ramen_ were wasted on her full stomach.

Afterwards Sesshoumaru cleared away her dishes quietly. Kagome was half-crying as she carried her heavy tummy to bed. She shifted her body to the side when he entered her room, frowning frustratedly at the wall. 

Then she felt his weight sink in beside her.

“Look—” she said, whirling back. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t like what you did just now. It was very... _intrusive_.”

“What was?” Sesshoumaru replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, even though his body close to her was anything but.  
  
She steeled in her position. “I don’t like it when you appear from nowhere to pick me up.” She thought about Ichiro ruefully, the what-ifs and the what-would-have-beens of the night. “You know I had intended to stay longer with them.”  
  
He laid there beside her in his contemplative silence, his long lashes dusting his cheeks. When his eyes lifted, they almost seemed to pierce through hers.  
  
“You could have easily informed me that you were not coming home for dinner,” he said, and she felt the same indignance from earlier creep in again, “Then I would not have cooked. And I would certainly not have gone out to search for you.”  
  
There was something about the image of him wandering in the streets looking for her that set her back more than it should. Because what was she doing then? Singing, cavorting with her friends. It squeezed her heart a little, hurt her inside.  
  
 _Am I that selfish?_ she wondered. _Am I constantly only thinking for myself?_ _  
__  
__I can’t help it, I’ve been on my own for so long, that everything with him now feels so…_ _  
__  
__...feels so new._ _  
__  
_“I’m sorry,” she then said. “You’re right, I should have at least told you.” She toyed with the edge of her pillow. “So are you mad at me now?”  
  
“Is that even possible?” Sesshoumaru wondered, but his voice had softened.  
  
She hit her fist against his chest. “Gee, Sesshoumaru. I can’t tell if you’re serious anymore.”  
  
“Hn,” he murmured, taking her hand, his fingers curled around her wrist. The same manner he had drawn her blood. Her pulse skipped from the memory, and her body flushed with heat. It had been so intense, _intimate,_ stirring conflicting emotions in her.  
  
Part of her wanted him to do it again. Part of her knew she _shouldn’t_.  
  
Her worries were in vain. Sesshoumaru placed her hand back, but not before sweeping her hair off her face. Suddenly he leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. She froze like a meek kitten in bed.  
  
“I shall not bother you now,” he said, getting up. “Rest well, _miko_.”  
  
When he was gone, and she made sure he really was gone, Kagome stealthily touched where he had laid and finding it still warm, moved to lay in his space. She lulled herself to sleep, embraced in his warmth, a weightless, carefree sleep.  
  
 _Wait for the next chapter!_


	14. The Approaching Heat of Summer

#  **The Approaching Heat of Summer**

_Her fists once small like plums, were now akin to persimmons tugging against the stiffened silk of his hakama. She was down on her knees, sobbing, a rugged red cloak covered over her head, and when her tears ran down her ashy cheeks, they drew clean white lines against the soot._

_Quickly Sesshoumaru decided he did not like it, did not like the smell of burnt wood, mixed with tears._

_"Uncle Yasha," Rin was crying. "He's still inside!"_

_It was a dark night, the moon a mere slice, but the fire had lent the sky a bright, reddish tinge._

_Sesshoumaru found himself entering the raging orphanage, regrettably. Almost half of the pillars were defeated in the fire, the roof disintegrating by the mere second. A falling wooden beam narrowly missed his shoulder as he walked further in._

_Inuyasha lay pinned underneath the rubble at a corner, his human face barely peeking out from the shreds of debris. The rest of his body remained trapped, immobile. The fire swarmed around the other parts of the room, ravaging everything into cinders. Bleak eyes staring at the ceiling, he simply appeared like he was waiting for Death. A strange scene, given his tenacious nature._

_Sesshoumaru presented a chilly smile._

_"Your face looks more rounded, not since our last meeting," he called out. "Has the village life been feeding you well?"_

_Inuyasha turned his face only to scoff weakly. "Not you. Spare me the bloody formalities and end me already. You know you want to."_

_"Hn," he went, his eyes assessing his surroundings. Any time now, the whole building was going to collapse, and he would not want to be caught in it._

_"Any other day I would have rejoiced upon this opportunity," Sesshoumaru muttered._

_He tossed the red cloak that had been in his grip, and it landed near Inuyasha's face._

_"I believe this belongs to you."_

_"Don't need it," Inuyasha spoke through clenched teeth, his voice turning hoarse over the fumes. A terrible hacking cough suddenly consumed him, as if there was something in his chest he wanted to claw out, and Sesshoumaru found himself tensing with annoyance._

_"There are other ways to be foolish, Inuyasha." Sesshoumaru turned to leave._

_"Hey," his half-brother called out. His usual roguish grin had returned, his glistening face slick with sweat and bright from the flames surrounding him. "Do you think she'll remember me, when I see her again?"_

_On his way back to Rin atop the small hill, where she sat huddled with the other villagers, a deafening crash reached Sesshoumaru's ears as the orphanage finally gave way, crumbling into the ground in a formless, smoking heap._

_He stood there, almost frozen, watching the black ashes softly float up to the crimson sky, and as much as he tried to, he could not understand._

_Once more, someone had showed him that he commanded neither Life, nor Death._

* * *

“She's a monster. Like, if the devil sent one of his minions from the fiery depths of hell, and it crawled out from some molten crack in a spewing volcano, she'd probably be it. No, screw that. She is the devil incarnate himself.”

Amari wobbled slightly on the ladder, her arms straining up to hang the paper lantern on the ceiling. By her feet Kagome was supposed to keep watch, a hand on a rung, but instead her concerns were diverted to a certain person instead.

The younger _miko_ held her breath as she struggled with the lantern. She kept missing the hook jutting out from the ceiling. _Don’t look down_ , she told herself. _I shouldn’t have volunteered to do this!_

After the umpteenth try, she gave up and decided she just wasn’t going to risk her balance. “Kagome-sama, that's a really mean thing to say, don't you think? I mean, I know the summer festival is coming and she is here to assist us with the preparations—but instead she's just lounging in the priest's office in _his_ chair while taking selfies on her phone and munching on the peanuts from his drawer, and not just any peanuts, but the special black ones I bought just for him during my trip to Taiwan…”

“I admire how you can say all that while still putting an empathetic face.”

“I'm not done yet. She has a weird smell to her too.”

“It's brinestone. I _told_ you she crawled out from a volcano.”

Amari pouted. “Can we at least agree Jyohaku-sama should have been here? At least he wouldn't enforce overtime on us.” She added wistfully, “I miss the priest.” A sudden energy renewed her determination and she strove again, reaching up on tiptoe, the hook almost touching the lantern…

Kagome looked up to her friend with a smile, reaching up to pat her back. The head priest was consigned to another shrine for the week, and a relief staff had been arranged in his absence to help prepare for the upcoming summer festival. Unfortunately the person had not been much of a help…and the two _miko_ found themselves doing everything on their own, from planning the festival activities right to hand-crafting the decorations itself. It was exhausting to say the least, and they had no choice but to stay late in the shrine every day.

“There there, he'll come back soon alright.”

Amari squealed as Kagome’s gesture caused her to teeter. She managed to stay put on the ladder, but the lantern had slipped from her fingers. It fell onto the floor, its paper structure crushed beyond recognition. Kagome and her friend stared at the disfigured ornament, then slowly to each other’s faces. That was going right out of their pockets.

“ _Girls!_ ” came a squeaking shriek from the garden.

They lumbered to the garden reluctantly. On the bridge was the relief priestess, bent over the railing, her head shaking side to side frantically. 

“My phone!” she screamed. She pointed into the pond, her finger like a harpoon stabbing into a whale. “It dropped inside!”

Kagome and Amari eyed each other, trying hard to contain the laugh bubbling within their chests.

Hana was a priestess in her early thirties, and served in a shrine up at Nishidai for six years and counting. Usually coquettish in the presence of men (something to note when she first came to introduce herself to Jyohaku), she quickly lost her charm with her female workmates as soon as her bossy and lazy nature began to rear its ugly head.

Kagome managed a sympathetic look. “How awful. Now you can't take any more photos of yourself.”

Hana’s nose flared. She knew the ladies were secretly gloating over her misfortune. The cheek of them, really! She stared at Kagome first, who appeared unperturbed before finally setting her sights on Amari.

“You!” she barked. “Get down and retrieve my phone for me!”

“H-huh? How?”

“I don't care! Go jump into the pond and get it for me!” Seeing the incredulous look on their faces, and her slipping grip on them, Hana quickly decided on an ultimatum. “Or I complain to the priest about your negligence! Failure to keep the bridge pathway clean, thereby causing me to slip and lose my phone!”

Blood rushed to Kagome’s face. This woman was just too much! “Hey wait a minute!” she shouted. “I may have tolerated your lazy ass because of your position, but I'm not gonna let you bully my partner like that!”

“So you jumped into the pond,” Sesshoumaru surmised after Kagome had related the chain of events, her burning head on his lap.

“Yes I did. And now I’m down with a cold.”

“You recovered from a case of allergies just recently,” he remarked, and he brushed away her long hair covering her miserable face. “It is as though your immune system had taken a plunge. Pun intended.”

“I have to curb my fever before it reaches its pitch. Darn it, I can’t afford to take leave during this period. Poor Amari, she’ll be alone.”

“Even in this state you are thinking of others.”

Kagome groaned inwardly.

He held her shoulder for a while, holding his silence as she remained weakly on his lap. Then he said, “I will nurse you back till you have gained strength. This is my purpose here, after all, to take care of your needs.”

She looked up, letting her eyes rest on his face for a moment. “Really, Sesshoumaru? Are you really going to do just that—take care of all my needs forever?”

Sesshoumaru smiled down at her. It was an odd smile, one that sent chills through the rising temperature in her blood. He stroked near the corner of her lips.

“There is a certain charm in seeing you in this vulnerable, helpless state. If only that swim had dampened your incessant chatter.”

“You're not listening.”

He allowed her to rest. Kagome slept, her interwoven fever dreams inducing a fitful slumber. Once in awhile, a familiar laughter would probe the murky corners of her relenting consciousness, and somewhere in that darkness she knew it was the _zashiki warashi,_ the child spirit in her house up to its tricks.

She woke up somewhere in the night, her head heavy as lead and her throat dry like sandpaper. Kagome groggily dragged herself to the toilet. As she sat on the cold pot, her mind dwelling on work, a shadow of movement at the bathtub caught her eye. She thought she was having another fervid dream, but no, this was real, that rush of cold blood in her veins was real, which meant that _thing_ was real—there was a red-skinned creature squatting in the tub, its long tongue noisily licking the white porcelain.

Kagome screamed.

Awhile later, Sesshoumaru stood arms akimbo in the bathroom, scrutinizing the interiors with an observant gaze. Kagome cowered behind him, sick, shaking. The ghastly being had conveniently disappeared outright.

“I believe you saw the _akaname_ ,” Sesshoumaru stated calmly. “It’s a creature that licks the mildew and grime in dirty baths. Often appears during summer.” He wiped a finger inside the tub and frowned. “This is strange. I always clean the bathtub every morning.” He shot her a look for validation. “You know I do.”

“Sesshoumaru, what is this?” Kagome wailed, clutching her head. She was on the verge of collapsing. First the creepy _zashiki warashi,_ and now this! “Have you been attracting demons in my house?”

He rubbed his chin in deep thought. “Hn. I suppose they are attracted to my aura.” Gripping his fist, his face was suddenly awashed with a hardened fortitude. “No matter. I shall peruse them to my advantage to increase my powers.”

“No—I absolutely do not tolerate all of your questionable guests here!”

“They are no more guests—they’ve become permanent members in the household.”

Kagome gaped at him in disbelief. She couldn’t even be mad, not when she was losing strength in her body. Sesshoumaru caught her just as in time as her knees gave way. Her temperature had gotten warmer, and of the moment, a bath was not a wise idea.

“Your fever is rising. Do you wish for me to wipe you down?” he asked as he guided her back to her room. Then like a careful afterthought, he added, “I shall promise to be gentle and tender.”

“I want to go back to bed,” Kagome whined.

“Yes, we can do so in bed too.”

“No!”

* * *

The ten-thousand yen note flung down on the counter like a piece of confetti. Ichiro stared at it. Then his eyes roved back up to the customer, who drilled him with a condescending gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?” he mumbled, finally steeling up his courage. This, he thought, this was definitely personal. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much?”

A light smirk came to Sesshoumaru’s lips. “That is a rather underrated observation on your part. I do not hate you.” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned forward, a threatening glint washing over his eyes. “I _despise_ you.”

He gathered the plastic bags of groceries in his hand, and stopped just before exiting from the supermarket doors.

“Ironic, is it not,” Sesshoumaru said. “That while it is understandable that she does not remember, apparently you do not, too.”

And before Ichiro could ask anything more, he quickly stepped out and disappeared into the night, leaving the store manager purely confused and shaken.

_To be continued!_


	15. Dancing with the Devil

##  **Dancing with the Devil**

_During one of those short summer seasons, the ones he had spent with her at least_ — _barely using all of his fingers should he ever bother to count them_ — _she came to him on not-so-little feet, her hand grasping small empty husks, dusty, dirty. He wished she'd knew better, but she did not, and a while later he began to wonder if her apparent ignorance was really a part on his negligence._

_Rin offered her hands to him._

_"Sesshoumaru-sama, what are these?"_

_He hesitated. "They're dead cicadas, Rin."_

_"Oh!" She jumped back, although she held them more preciously than ever. "Do they all die in this way? Like these empty shells?"_

_"It is how they expire naturally."_

_She brought them to a critical eye._

_"How long do they live before they die?"_

_"Depends," he said, and he was looking elsewhere because he was bored, and the breeze had not passed for a while and Jaken had yet to return. But most of all, he did not want to be sitting there talking about cicadas._

_A tilt of her head. "What does_ depends _, mean?"_

 _Sesshoumaru gave her a proper look. Her brown eyes were bright in the summer sun. Dead leaves clung to her matted hair, and a distinct smell wafted from her. He blinked. That smell_ was _her, just a little different from before. Since when did it change?_

_He lowered his eyes to the shells. "They live underground after they are hatched. Sometimes for a year, sometimes longer. Then their wings grow and they get to fly for a few weeks."_

_"Just a few weeks?"_

_"Just a few weeks."_

_"And they die?"_

_"Don't all living things? You are older now, you must know better."_

_"I don't want to die like a cicada."_

_"You will not."_

_She was gazing at them forlornly now. He wanted to tell her right then, no Rin, there is no sympathy for a slight work of nature, and then for some reason his eyes flicked to her, then back to the empty husks._

_A strange imagery took form in his mind, where her body was no longer human, but that of a big, dessicated shell instead._

_"Throw them away," he said. "And you will speak of this no more."_

* * *

It was one of those days in the middle of a sweltering August, during the cruel height of summer. The season was always a busy time for the shrine and now that the festival had ended, a great load was graciously lifted off their shoulders.

One morning after a light jog before work, Kagome was heading for a shower when something quietly caught her eye.

There was a lone cicada resting snugly in a corner in her living room. An ubiquitous creature of summer. Also, a garish black spot against the backdrop of cornflower-blue wallpaper. It laid very still, not eliciting that high-pitched cry they were notorious for. She wondered how long it had been sitting there. She also wondered something else.

Turning heel, she strode purposefully to Sesshoumaru’s room.

She knocked hard but he did not answer. Carelessly wondering if she should open the door _,_ her hand worked its way before the thought could complete itself.

Kagome was never one to wax philosophical on the aesthetics, much less the erotic aspects of the nude male body, but here she was, confronted by the scene of a very naked man, bending over into a pair of trousers. It was almost in slow-motion, both his movements and the dawning realization of what she was seeing, every perfect plane of taut muscle glowing from the soft, morning sun filtering in through the room windows.

She didn’t know which was worse—the fact that Sesshoumaru had skipped his underwear, or that when she briefed over his face, his eyes were looking at her.

“Yes?” he said, rather casually.

Kagome turned back from the door, screaming internally as she hid her grimacing face. 

“Hey. We have a— _a cicada situation_ in the living room.”

A quiet chuckle. “And since when have you been offended by a mere critter on the wall?” His tone was deliberate, amused.

“Well, this one’s really big.”

_The bug’s not the only thing that’s big, goddammit!_

He slipped into his shirt, taking his time with his buttons. 

“It puzzles me. I used to remember a young _miko_ would not flinch at the sight of a venomous wasp the size of one’s head. Or perhaps... _that did not happen at all_."

“I’m serious, Sesshoumaru.”

“So am I, _miko_. It must have been quite a scare, until you had to barge in and _intrude_ upon my privacy.”

Her face flushed heatedly. Why was Sesshoumaru being so difficult nowadays? Always a contrary remark, always striving for the last word. Was he partaking in some kind of pleasure from seeing her agitated?

 _Bug_ , she then told herself, _focus on the bug_. 

_Sesshoumaru’s just teasing you, Kagome. He does that all the time, doesn’t he? Maybe you should give him a good dressing down. Set some boundaries. It’s only a matter of time until he_ _gets bolder—_

_—And I can’t stop him because—_

“ _Bug_ ,” Kagome said to Hana.

“What?” Hana replied, confused, mouth twisted in a scowl, to which Kagome blinked at her surroundings. They were in the shrine hall for dance practice. Her partner was beside her dressed in their elaborate costumes, with a _suzu_ bell in each hand, body frozen in a mid-spin. Leading the dance rehearsal was none other than Hana the more experienced priestess sent in from all the way in Nishidai. There were talks she wasn’t going to be just a temporary placement as initially arranged. 

“This is the fifth time I’m telling you to keep your chin up!” Hana then screeched, before circling them like a hungry vulture. A hand suddenly smacked sharp on Kagome’s back. "And what are you—a hunchback?" She gave an exasperated sigh. “Really, I was only _twenty_ when I perfected the Kagura dance. I'm having second-hand embarrassment just watching you both. There is no speck of grace in your movements at all."

Amari blew out her breath. They had been practising for weeks, and as usual their overzealous coach was eager to spit any form of verbal abuse she deemed fit. And sometimes physical too. That assault on Kagome’s back for example was extremely unnecessary. Looking at the way she was gripping her bells, Amari knew her friend was seconds away from whacking them onto Hana’s head.

Alas, the new young priest appeared at the door just in time. Kouhei Mirazaki came sauntering in with a box of Krispy Kreme. Only on his third training week in Yukino-jingu, his easy sense of humour (and boyish good looks) quickly made him a welcoming sight on the female-dominated floor. 

"Special delivery!” he hollered. “Donuts on the house!" 

Immediately the two _miko_ dropped their upright postures and scampered to him. "Kouhei!"

"Come on guys, take a break—you’ve been on it for four hours straight. Hana-sama, grab some too!"

Hana watched in disgust as the apprentices began stuffing their faces, cream and jam smearing their cheeks. Whatever elegance they had incurred from their dance training had been chucked out of the window. What gluttons they were, what scavengers!

"Disgraceful," she spat. "I don't understand why I have to deal with you incompetent girls. None of you are obviously committed." A dark smile appeared on her face. "It's all in due time. I have a plan for this shrine all hatched in my devious mind. I'll win the head priest's favour and before you know it, he'll appoint _me_ as the main priestess of Yukino-jingu. I shall have complete control of everything." She rubbed her hands, bursting into a witch-like, high-pitched cackle.

“Does she always do that?” Kouhei said. “Break into a monologue fit for a Disney villain?”

"What's all this commotion?" came another voice, sharp and thunderous behind him.

It was the head priest, stopping by. They gasped, exposing the half-chewed donuts in their mouths.

"Jyohaku-sama!" Hana greeted, her tone suddenly soft and melodic. She offered a Red Velvet Krispy Kreme with a smile. "We're just having a break! Would you care to have one?"

Jyohaku flared his nose irritably at the donut, before fixing his sights on a cheek-stuffed Kagome. 

“Higurashi, office.”

She felt the clouds darkening above her.

* * *

As usual there was a white Fortune Cat doll on Jyohaku's desk, or a _maneki-neko_. Its face was a perpetual image of joy, opposite to what she was feeling, its paw waving to and fro continuously. Kagome couldn't stop watching it.

She cautiously slid her eyes to Jyohaku who was slouched back in his chair, an arm propped on his slack jaw. His bulky figure appeared imposing but his eyes were flat and jaded, looking older than she last remembered. His silence was choking the whole room. Shouldn't he already be shouting at her at this point?

Then his chair started creaking as he rocked himself in his chair, further harbouring his dark thoughts. 

Kagome stood up with a cry. “Cut the suspense and get on with it already!”

“Don’t bang my mahogany desk, you fool!”

Jyohaku snorted, seemed to consider for a moment, then slapped a letter envelope from nowhere.

Instantly she felt her blood drain from her face. Was this it? Did Jyohaku finally reach the end of his tether? Was today her last day at Yukino-jingu?

"H-hold on. I know my punctuality is in the pits. I'm trying to work on it, honest to god. Also, haven’t I been picking up on new tasks? You said the other time I was _really_ good in leading the mass prayers—”

Jyohaku rolled his eyes. "You've been late since day one. Why don’t you open the letter and tell me your thoughts?"

“Ha-ha. You’ll owe me a penny for that, Jyohaku-sama.”

“Just open it for god’s sake.”

Trying to remain calm, she read the letter, all the while imagining Hana's face laughing maniacally with her plan succeeding. The fortune cat continued to wave at her. _Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!_ it seemed to say.

It was her results slip from her recent examination, one of the many steps to graduate from her apprenticeship and dictate her prospects of being a fully ordained priestess. She had burned the midnight oil during the last few months, slogging for the theory exams. In any way, she had scored a seventy-five percent.

“Ho—,” Kagome said, her hand quivering, “Holy shi—”

“What’s with the measly score?” Jyohaku questioned, snatching the letter from her. He had evidently read it beforehand and his lips pulled down, looking at it again.

The room was spinning around her. She was delirious with joy despite her confusion. “I don’t understand. I passed, didn’t I?”

“I don’t need a pass. I need sterling results from you. I need flying colours!”

“Oh you and your bloody expectations!”

"What has made you so _distracted_ nowadays?" he asked. "Wait, don't answer me. It must be because..."

"Because of the spirit I sired," Kagome finished for him. "Yada yada yada. It’s always that, isn’t it?"

"I don't think you comprehend the gravity of your situation. Don't you see this is precisely how the devil works? To tamper with your faith and lure you away from the path towards righteousness?"

"Hah. On the contrary—I believe scoring seventy-five on the exam is already a clear indicator I'm on the right track."

Jyohaku rubbed his face like a parent would when dealing with a cantankerous child.

"A theory exam is only what it is—to test your theory knowledge. It doesn't mean you're ready to graduate as an apprentice. Your sense of commitment still plays a great part in whether or not you're deemed suitable to be a ranked priestess of this shrine. And if I may be completely honest, Higurashi, I feel like your dedication has recently dwindled."

His words struck her like a slap in the face. Kagome couldn't imagine herself being _less dedicated_ to the shrine; it had been her second home for the last five years.

And yet a pang of guilt wormed itself into her. The priest must have made his due observations. The way she rushed through things now, the way she was giving a little less of herself in her duties. Every hour of work had her wishing for the day to end quickly, to close the shrine as fast as time could allow so she could rush home.

And all because...

So she could see _him_ …

Hadn't her mind been astray while dancing just now? She couldn't stop rolling over this morning's events. 

"I'm still the same person you took under your wing," Kagome asserted, wanting to convince him but mostly, to convince herself. "Your very first apprentice. You’ve seen yourself how I’ve grown all these years. Do you really think I would want to throw away everything just like that?"

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you?” Without waiting for her answer, he flipped over a page of the _Cats of Aoshima Island_ calendar on his desk. “You’re _obstinate_ , I’ll give you credit for that. Now listen. I’m going to give you a final chance. A final chance to prove to _me_ that _I_ am making the right decision by not dismissing your difficult ass—”

“I’m not difficult—”

“Your Kagura dance performance is coming up in a few weeks. The shrine committee will be here for the event, every single twenty-one of them." Jyohaku smiled at her, like a crocodile grinning at a mouse deer on the river's edge. "Can you imagine that? It won’t be just me you’ll have to impress."

Kouhei and Amari sat at the ledge of the main entrance, changing out their shrine sandals into their shoes. 

"Man, I left my office job thinking I could escape from politics,” he lamented, “but seems like even the shrine is not completely immune to it, isn’t it?”

“Does Hana really intend to seduce our head priest?” said Amari worriedly. “We should really do something about it.”

Kouhei chuckled. “Come on, I’m sure he’s not that stupid.” Seeing her distraught look, he added helpfully, “I mean, he didn’t take her donut.”

Amari laughed for Kouhei always had something witty to say. She wished she had his sense of humour. 

“Spare me the bullcrap!” Kagome’s voice suddenly yelled out of the blue. They looked on in surprise as she stormed past them to leave the shrine.

“Woah, what’s gotten her so mad?” Kouhei stood up. “Hey Kagome-sama, you didn’t even change your shoes!”

* * *

There was a disharmonious racket of pots banging and pans clattering in the kitchen when Sesshoumaru got home; and because the idea that Kagome might probably be cooking was so unfathomable, he came under the suspicion that a burglar had infiltrated into their house.

Taking the stance of a police officer barging in on a high-risk warrant, he toed his way cautiously and waited near the kitchen entrance, biding his time for the perfect moment to strike. Ah, if only he had some sort of weapon within his grasp, and he looked at his fist, trying to remember the last time he had fashioned it into one. He couldn't. 

The cacophony of kitchen utensils reached into a jarring crescendo, joined by angry cabinet doors and dissatisfied plates. Counting to three Sesshoumaru finally swooped into action, the _noren_ curtain above temporarily blinding him for a moment as it passed over his head and he stumbled into a scene, an impossible scene—of Kagome, hair tight in a knot, sleeves pulled, _in his apron_ , standing in the wake of a disheveled kitchen.

Sesshoumaru stood there for a few seconds, speechless. The stoves continued to flare while Kagome whisked into a bowl.

"Where's your _mirin_ sauce?" he finally voiced after regaining his bearings. "You'll need half a teaspoon of _mirin_ sauce for your omelette."

"Do I?" Kagome answered, slamming a drawer with a force, Sesshoumaru felt, was unnecessary. "And what else is not enough? Or is nothing ever enough? Do you find yourself like Jyohaku too, nit-picking over everything?”

He nodded quietly to himself, having understood the situation. It explained the mess on the counter too. This, he told himself, would need a certain form of delicacy and tact to approach.

“I’ll work myself to the death, never having reached all of your lofty standards!”

"Well," he said, picking his words carefully, "Since it is only an omelette, and there's only the two of us, I suppose it would not matter much."

He saw as she exhaled a frustrated breath, _but slightly pacified nonetheless_ , as she reached for the _mirin_ sauce and applied his suggestion. Sesshoumaru took it as a cue to further neutralize the situation. 

“Bad day at work?” he asked, gently kneading her shoulders.

"I don't know," Kagome replied. “I just feel like strangling the head priest. Nothing I do is right. God, I don’t even know what my mentor _thinks_ is right.” Then she turned to face him, her lips pouting. “ Guess what? I got my exam results today. And I scored a seventy-five percent.”

“Oh? That is commendable. You deserve the highest congratulations for your efforts.” He stroked her cheek and gave an affectionate smile. “This Sesshoumaru is proud of you.”

Kagome smiled back, biting a grin. “I’m proud of myself too. But Jyohaku thinks I could have done more. And now he's invited the shrine committee for my dance performance and they're going to appraise me too..."

“Curse him! May he be struck by misfortune and thrown to the lowest levels of hell reserved for vermin. One wonders if he even took the exams, or if his position is solely through inheritance.”

“Hey, that is a serious accusation,” Kagome laughed, slapping his chest.

“Your well-being is more serious.” Sesshoumaru then gestured to the prepared dishes on the table. “And this, is this all for us? You have cooked this much?” 

Kagome nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious. She admitted she had perhaps gone overboard with the amount of food.

His gaze returned to her. “I cannot wait to taste your cooking.”

“Why don’t you take a rest first, Sesshoumaru?” she said, a bit breathless, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

He watched her for a while before his hand closed over hers. “Are you certain you want me to rest? It does not seem that way.”

She blushed, feeling a sheen of perspiration, the heat from his suggestive words further stoked by the burning stove behind her. 

Suddenly she felt a mild disorientation, as though she had been gently lulled into a different state of mind—her breaths dipped lower, her thoughts getting fuzzy at the edges—a dizzy spell working itself over her. 

And while she was trying to grasp onto something tangible, something else was happening. She wasn’t sure if she had imagined the sensation when Sesshoumaru's finger stroked along her jaw, or when he lifted her face, or when his eyelashes had brushed over her cheek. She closed her eyes when a feathery feeling touched her lips—a kiss, was Sesshoumaru kissing her?

Her control swarmed back into her body. Kagome moved her legs and lifted her head. She blinked at her surroundings, only to see Sesshoumaru's back leaving the kitchen. 

"Oh, crap!" she then cried aloud, when she realized the pot was boiling over, spilling miso soup everywhere. Grabbing the dishcloth she quickly tended to the mess, and whatever had transpired just now was quickly pushed away, and duly forgotten for the rest of the day. 

And just like that, the rest of the summer days passed by. And it was during one of those nights at the end of summer, when the autumn chill had begun to whisper between trees, and the sky had taken to a more dullish shade. Sesshoumaru was sitting in bed, a collection of Matsuo Bashō's poems on his lap. At the other side Kagome lay fast asleep, her dreams no longer intertwining with her memories. Something prodded the back of his mind. Quietly he put the book away and rose to leave the room.

The cicada, he was quite sure, was dead. All it left as a legacy to its short life was a physical shell of its former self, empty and hollow as the time it had spent fixed on the wall, when it could have been outside singing with its friends.

There was a haiku he had chanced upon in the book he was reading. One that had led him to remember the fate of this little creature, now certainly too late. 

_Lonely stillness—_ _  
__a single cicada's cry_ _  
__sinking into stone_

He shook his head as an old memory resurfaced into his mind. It appeared surreptitiously, like a ripple across a dark lake.

Sesshoumaru stood there by the wall for a long time, simply staring at the cicada's husk.

"Not into dust, but cast in stone," he murmured. "You hated the cicada's death, but compared to what you suffered, it would have been bliss."

Then he touched the husk with a finger, and it crumbled into smithereens of dust.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previous readers of this fic might have noticed a few changes in these few chapters as compared to the old version. I did so for a better flow of the story. Anywaysssss, it’s time to get onboard on the (useless) trivia train for my original characters! Weeeee!~ First stop, Jyohaku!
> 
> Full name: Narumi "Onizuka" Jyohaku  
> Age: 35 outside, 55 inside  
> Horoscope: Scorpio  
> Bloodtype: B (obviously) 
> 
> The only son from a shrine family with a sister in Tohoku, his hometown. He was raised with tough love, and enforces the same old-school treatment upon his apprentices. But all they see is a man with a ten-foot stick up his ass! Millennials nowadays have it too easy!
> 
> Although he and Kagome both share the same pain of having to leave a colourful past, he has firmly closed the door behind him. Facing life onwards with a jaded outlook, he occasionally feels like a zombie during his quieter moments. Thank god for whiskey. Thank god for his thirteen cats. His only consolation is that he is the author's favourite OC. 
> 
> Jyohaku is most likely not to say: "Keep up the great work, everyone!"


	16. First Transgression

## First Transgression

_The forest had gone deathly still; so still not even the crickets dared to ring. It was hard to believe that only a few moments ago the sky had shook and the ground had crumbled, the air piercing with the roar of a forest ogre._

_Kagome was barely a week into Sengoku Jidai, after the wretched centipede-woman dragged her into this forsaken place. She had kept a brave front throughout her ordeals, witnessing first-hand in the savagery that only previously crowded in her grandfather's mythology books._

_But tonight her spirit was faltered, smashed to pieces. The oni striked her, and the ground had caved in all around from its fearsome force._

_When she opened her eyes, not only was she still alive, but the boy with the dog ears was there, looking at her. Inuyasha. That’s what he said his name was._

_"It's alright, it's dead. I killed it," he said. His words were so simple, and yet they meant everything._

_Her hands reached out and gripped on him dearly like Death; latching, resolute. It felt like a protective shroud had fallen on her. She wouldn't trade it for anything else._

_It's alright, it's alright, it's alright._

_The rough fibres of his haori were tickling her nose, stained by her salty tears. "I've never been so scared," Kagome confessed. She tried to laugh it off. "I almost died there."_

_"There's nothing to be scared of. You can always count on me for these things," he said, and his voice sounded strange even to himself; it was warm and comforting and he was never one of those things. He swallowed, and dared himself to say it. "I promise."_

_Kagome nodded, stifling her tears. She hugged him for a little while longer until her fears dissipated, until he said "Okay, that’s enough," and even then she still didn't let go. She had found her safe haven in this crazy monster-riddled world, and it was in this boy._

_She would never trade him for anyone else._

* * *

Ichiro stopped just before he turned his key inside the lock. He briskly turned to face Kagome, his body braced against the door as if he wanted to block her way in.

His eyes wore an apprehensive look, searching her face for words. Kagome waited, smiling with amusement. What was it now? There was always something up with him.

"Err, just before we go in," he said, his voice clearly stammering. "I would like to confess that I've never brought a girl home."

She laughed. "Well, and I've never been to a guy's apartment by myself. So that makes the two of us."

She saw as his anxiety diminished, replaced by a relieved smile. His set of lip piercings glinted faintly under the fluorescent lighting of the corridor.

"It's hella messy though, ‘cause I've got books everywhere and stuff. You may have to tread wisely, like the path towards Mordor."

Kagome nodded knowingly. "Full of obstacles, you mean. I'm sure it can't be that bad. My house used to be filthy too, before Sesshoumaru moved in. He said it smelled like a pigsty."

"Ah, well." He turned and gave a flimsy smile as he unlocked the door. "Just don't trip over anything."

Kagome stepped in after him. Before she knew it Ichiro had suddenly stopped to remove his shoes, and she stumbled into his back.

"Oh careful now. Just put your shoes at the side."

Kagome stared at the _genkan_ in shock. She could barely fit inside the entrance, standing there with Ichiro. Her left shoulder brushed against the wall as she tottered unsteadily, gaining her balance. She looked up. This was one of those micro-apartments, wasn't it? She heard of them in the expensive, densely populated city of Tokyo, but never really been inside one.

Was it true what they said about such houses? Gingerly she stretched out her arms like a bird, feeling for the walls beside her. She needn't reach far—her fingers were already grazing them.

Ichiro, who had walked further in, watched her over his shoulder. He seemed to know what was in her mind and followed suit, touching the two adjacent walls with his hands. None of them spoke for a while, just looking at each other, arms outstretched.

"Welcome home," Ichiro said, grinning. Kagome broke into laughter. "Welcome home!"

The apartment was solely a straight pathway starting from the tiny entrance. To the right a few doors opened revealing a compact closet, and further up, a toilet. The "bedroom" involved a trip up a ladder close to the ceiling, loft-style, where a single bed spread out from a close corner.

Beside the toilet was a small stove and sink, and this simple arrangement basically formed the kitchen. The appearance of the balcony ultimately spelled the end to this short corridor, fit for drying some laundry, or if one wanted the splendorous view of the facing apartment block. The balcony was then, Kagome figured, Mordor in essence. There wasn't really a common space or a living room. The whole pathway was your living room.

Ichiro didn't keep a lot of furniture. Kagome could count the number of items he had: a small table for eating, accompanied by a stool, a microwave and a small fridge. Some kitchen utensils. Maybe he had other things sorted out somewhere. As much as it appeared to hold minimal space, she was sure the apartment hid a secret compartment or two.

And books. He literally had books chucked at every corner, and there weren't a lot of corners sadly. She almost kicked into a stack of magazines on the floor, which, when she read their covers, were volumes of a science journal.

Kagome wasn't sure where to sit; she was standing rather awkwardly, her eyes darting around. That was when she spotted the ladder and the bed upstairs.

"I know it's cramped as hell," Ichiro spoke apologetically, as he filled the electric kettle over the sink. "But it's still much better than living with your parents. Just me, myself and I."

"Oh, don't bother yourself to make tea," she hurried after him. "I already had too much soda over dinner. Just a glass of water will do."

"Okay. There’s some snacks and beer in the fridge if you want some. I don't have anything heavier, though. I only eat instant noodles when I'm at home."

"Instant noodles, huh. I haven't had that in a long time. Sesshoumaru can't stand it and he won't allow it in the house. He says it isn't real food."

Ichiro shut the sink tap. "You know every time you speak, your thoughts always seem to revolve around him. It's like he's constantly in your mind." He gazed inside the kettle, the water sloshing about. "It's just the both of us here. Let's not talk about other people, alright."

The balcony door was ajar and the night breeze had slipped in, giving her arms a rise of prickled skin. He was right, there were just the two of them in that small, enclosed space. A thousand and one scenarios could unfold from it.

Ichiro was looking straight at her now. Kagome was forced to meet his intense gaze, his eyes large and soulful, expectant. For some reason, she remembered an incident from months ago when her high-school friend had bumped into them both at the restaurant. _"He's the guy who disrupted our school musical, isn't he? The shrine-worker dude, or something."_

Kagome blinked a few times, trying to distort the image before her.

She heard Ichiro sigh defeatedly, a hand through his hair as he turned back towards the sink. "I'm sorry," he said after a while. "I didn't mean to put you in a position like that. I don't want you to think I'm a pushover."

"You're not," Kagome said. "You’re a good guy, Ichiro."

He gave a feeble smile. "That's sweet, but I want to be more than just one of the good guys, y'know."

Kagome smiled kindly in return, although her gaze had shifted. Something else interested her. There was a thick book on a shelf above the stove, and she reached up to grab it. Its cover was wrinkled with age and curled at the bottom corner, its many pages dog-eared. Her eyes glossed over the title.

_‘Hyperspace: A Scientific Odyssey Through Parallel Universes, Time Warps, and the 10th Dimension by Michio Kaku’_

Thinking about it, the stack of magazines had borne a similar subject, something about Einstein's universe, and Lorentzian wormholes.

Michio Kaku and wormholes. Weren’t they all related to time travel?

A cold dreadful feeling sunk into the pits of her stomach, but her smile remained.

"You seem _really_ interested in time travel, don't you, Ichiro?" Kagome waved the book, although it wasn't a question. 

"Yeah, my interest dates back a long time. I've been researching this thing since I was a kid."

"Why, did something happen to you?"

He breathed out a laugh. "And why did you think anything happened to me at all?"

"Because something must have happened, for it to spur such a specific interest in you as a child."

He slid his hands into his pockets, seemed to hesitate, then faced her. "You know, you're about the first person to ever speculate that something ever happened to me." There was a spark in his eyes. Something had awakened inside him. "And you're right. Something _did_ occur. I was ten years old when I went on that school trip up Yamanote Memorial Hill.

“I got lost in the woods until someone came to rescue me. Needless to say after that, I was never the same."

* * *

The thrumming vibrated through the porcelain of her bathtub, each beat soft on her body. Kagome had placed a disc on the phonograph before her bath, so she could feel the music reverberating through the floor and walls. It was meant to be therapeutic but that effect was lost on her that night, as she lay half-submerged, sipping a can.

The lights in the bathroom flickered. Kagome watched, perplexed, and just as it had stopped, the door suddenly opened. In reflex she pushed her can deep into her bathwater.

"Drinking in the bath again?" Sesshoumaru said.

"You know, I swore I locked that door."

The door swung wider and he stepped in, his hand held out. "Yay, points for privacy," Kagome said, trying to do a little clap but the can slipped off and floated to the surface.

"Give me," Sesshoumaru pressed. With the most annoyed look she could muster, she fished out the beer can and passed it to him. Straightaway, he hurled it into the trash bin under the sink.

"Dammit. I really needed that."

"Why, your date gone wrong?"

"No, actually we kissed and made out."

"That did not happen. I know, I watched you."

She almost shot up from her bath, then realized the mocking quality in his smile. "Sesshoumaru! That's not funny!"

"Hn. It's apparent we do not share the same sense of humour then."

"You're evil. Always have been. Now, why don't you come and help me wash my hair since you're already here?"

His dark smile grew. "This evil Sesshoumaru is not in a position to refuse, is he?"

Sesshoumaru rolled up his sleeves, kneeling close to the bath, and gently pulled on the band securing her hair. Her hair unraveled instantly, like a dark flower bursting into bloom, their ends floating on the water surface.

Kagome sighed as the warm water from the showerhead touched her. Just when she thought she had reached the peak of comfort, he started to massage the shampoo into her scalp. Her head grew light as the soft fragrance wafted into her nose, her eyes growing heavier. Kagome leaned back. She could just sleep right now. The thrumming vibrations inside the tub seemed to conspire, lulling her into oblivion. Somewhere in a faraway place in the dark corner of her eyelids, a little boy got lost in the heart of the woods, crying.

“Sit up,” Sesshoumaru’s voice woke her from her reverie.

“Gods,” she said breathily as his hands worked their magic to her neck and shoulders, and down her back. “You make feel so good.”

“And I can make you feel even better,” his voice ghosted huskily over her ear.

Kagome stretched herself forward, bringing her knees up, her throat taut. She breathed in a little deeper, and then, a little slower. He knew, and she knew what he was doing. His fingers were casual but purposeful, his strokes languid but learnt, trailing on her skin. Was there a higher plane of sensation than what she was feeling right now? There was, and it was his intention to drive her there.

Her mind teetered over an unseen edge. Close to the breadth of a single hair, she almost fell, almost died. Then he stopped, but it was just a cruel ploy—it returned with all of his fingers, this time dragging down across the small expanse of her back, between her hips, her senses writhing in their wake.

Kagome shivered in an instant, a little electric current of _reiki_ releasing across her body. Suddenly it occurred to her that Sesshoumaru _had_ kissed her in the kitchen, and it had not been a daydream.

"Stop teasing me," she begged between ragged breaths. "You're always, _always_ teasing me."

"No, _you_ stop teasing me, Kagome Higurashi," Sesshoumaru hissed softly. His lips were hot, branding down the skin of her sensitive nape, no longer discreet. "Your wild emotions, constantly rippling inside me, rampant, echoing your every worry, your sorrow, your joys. The way your scent changes like the seasons—the burst of sunflower pollen, and then dark water, trickling off moss-covered rocks—carving your name into my senses."

Her legs slowly kicked in the water. With what strength left, she turned to his face. There was that fire, alive and dancing in his eyes, a little, amber flame that was orchestrating the swarming heat between her thighs.

 _He really is the devil, isn't he_ , her thoughts ran. _And I'm probably going to hell after this._

“Am I not entitled to you, as you are to me?” By this time his ministrations had strayed down to stifle her heat, or rather, _arouse_ it further. Her legs thrashed harder. Even though she knew it was too late, that she could not stop him anymore, that their boundaries had been crossed.

Eventually the fatigue from resisting overcame her. Kagome closed her eyes, and laid back her head.

"If our souls are bound to each other, what more of our bodies? Do with me what you will." 

“No,” Sesshoumaru said. “I shall do with you what _you_ will.”

Kagome's heart shuddered as his teeth broke into the skin of her nape. But it was going to feel good. It was always like that, no matter what. Then his hand moved between her legs again, and it became a different good, _sinfully_ good, waves crashing upon her kind of good, and he pushed her over the edge again, like he did just now, and this time she really fell a thousand times, and died a thousand deaths.

She wouldn't trade him for anyone else.

_To be continued..._   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sesshoumaru definitely skipped some bases, didn't he? Wait, does it mean it's a homerun in the next? O_O
> 
> Anywaysss, it's supposed to be Amari's stop in the (useless) Trivia Train, but let's skip her since Ichiro had a part earlier on. (you mean the friendzone part) Choo choo!~
> 
> Name: Ichiro Kirihata  
> Age: 28 outside, - 1 inside  
> Horoscope: Cancer  
> Blood type: O (sociable and optimistic, according to popular Japanese belief) 
> 
> Currently lives in a cheap apartment block about an hour from Family Mart. Ichiro never chose the Family Mart life, the Family Mart life chose him. Following a day of failed interviews, he saved an old man who almost fell into a cement pit. The old man turned out to be the (ex) manager of a Family Mart branch, and gave him a position. The rest is history. 
> 
> On his off days, Ichiro likes to read science journals and is a big fan of Michio Kaku and his time travel theories. Nothing about his looks and mannerisms suggest that he is actually an intellectual. He also has a stash of idol magazines somewhere featured in miko attire. 
> 
> Ichiro would never, ever say: "Wind scar!"


	17. Final Transgression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be sexual content in this chapter, but seeing how far Sess and Kagome’s characters have developed, it will not be a gratuitous scene. I did not intend for it to be crude and explicit. Also it will be quite dark.

#  **Final Transgression**

Amari held the tickets high up against the sky. They had been commissioned by the shrine committee, one of the many gifts after their amazing dance performance last weekend. What a night that had been. Kagome and Amari had invited their families to watch. Even Kagome's mysterious butler, Sesshoumaru, was there to witness the event.

Amari knew their hard efforts had paid off when she saw Jyohaku nod and smile at the end of their performance.

"Four tickets," she said. "Four tickets, whatever we'll do with them?"

"Whatever we'll do?" Kagome replied, picking on her salad. They were having their lunch at the shrine garden. "We'll have a group vacation of course!" She sighed happily. "A trip to a hot spring in winter. Ah, it's the vacation I long needed."

A thought came to her. "Hey Amari, I'll most likely ask Sesshoumaru to come along. How about you?"

Amari poked her noodles. "There's no way _that_ person will come, won't he?"

Kagome looked at her friend. "How about Kouhei?" she said. "He seems like a pretty fun guy."

It never occurred to her. Amari looked back in surprise. "Kouhei?"

* * *

"An onsen vacation at a villa?" Sesshoumaru repeated.

"Yes! I'll be going with two of my colleagues, " Kagome said. "Please tell me you'll go."

The snow had just fallen yesterday, the cold morning air bracing in their lungs. The both of them had taken their bicycles out to ride up a nearby hill. They cycled for an hour before Kagome asked for a break, her face flushed in perspiration. A wooden bench stood at the railed edge that overlooked the view of the whole town.

It was probably dangerous, riding up there in the slippery snow. They had been meaning to do it for some time after Sesshoumaru bought himself a bicycle, but the plan was constantly being put off. And now it was winter.

"As long as the date does not clash with my work schedule," Sesshoumaru replied simply.

Kagome laughed white puffs in the air. She wore an old red turtleneck sweater her mom had knitted for her, with a K embroidered on the front. "I understand. You're a famous model now. Just don't forget me when you're strutting on that catwalk." 

Whilst shopping downtown with Amari one day, Kagome had discovered Sesshoumaru’s face gracing the large cover of a billboard. She almost fainted from the rude shock, consequentially igniting a heated argument at home. Apparently he had been earning income as a model for months behind her back which explained the strange, random purchases that would sometimes pop out at her house. It took her some time to get over the idea even if she had been the one to suggest it a long time ago.

Sesshoumaru frowned. "I do not strut."

"Sure you do." Kagome got up from the bench and tried to do an exaggerated catwalk in front of him. "Like this."

She moved like a clumsy, but ambitious monkey. Sesshoumaru pulled her back to the bench where she was taken to his lap. She giggled when he circled his arms around her waist.

She was happy. And she deserved to be. She was on her way to becoming a fully-ordained priestess, which was her lifelong dream.

A small smile came to Sesshoumaru's lips. He was there when Kagome executed the Kagura dance. She had swayed with the grace of a swan, her hypnotic movements harmonized by the sound of ringing bells, the meandering swirl of her _reiki_ permeating through the shrine, grabbing him by his throat. 

He was caught transfixed in his seat, and in that moment, if she had summoned for him his very soul, he would have gladly offered it to her.

Afterwards following the performance, she had shyly introduced him to her family who attended. Mrs Higurashi and Souta responded to him with confused, but friendly smiles. The supermarket boy was there as well for his sister. He watched Kagome so wistfully that Sesshoumaru gave him a smile from afar, as if to say, "I win."

"Hold on," Sesshoumaru said, returning to the present. "Did you say it was a new villa in Kiba?"

They both fell into a quick silence. Kagome was sure there were a lot of villas in Kiba. But something told her it had to be _that_ particular one that was under construction two years ago. In other words the same place where she was called in for that fateful exorcism. The place where everything started.

"Oh dear," she stammered. "I didn't think about that." She tried to read his face but he turned away. "You know, you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No, I want to," he said quietly. "I have not been there for a long time."

Kagome smiled, trying to cast away the bad feeling. "Okay," she said. She clasped his gloved hands in hers. "Tell me which dates you're free. I want us to have a good time."

Kagome rented a car to the villa, finally perusing her driving license she obtained years ago. After about two hours of driving through light snowfall, they finally reached.

The surroundings were different from what she remembered, no longer a thick forested area in the middle of nowhere. Switching off her engine, she sighed.

"Well, this is it," Kagome said.

"This is it," Amari followed.

"This is it!" Kouhei cheered.

Everyone looked at Sesshoumaru. He pouted.

"This is it," he muttered.

The proprietor greeted them at the entrance. Turned out the villa was one of the properties belonging to the affluent shrine committee.

They walked into the warm, wooden interiors slowly, trying to curb their excitement.

"Is that Kagome-sama's boyfriend?" Kouhei whispered to Amari behind them. "He's terrifyingly good-looking."

"Of course, he’s a model for luxury brands," Amari informed to his astonishment. “But that’s not the best part. "He's also...Kagome's butler."

"No way!" He eyed the couple with disbelief and new-found admiration. "Fancy having that kind of guy at your feet. Can you imagine if they fall in love?"

The proprietor showed them their rooms, one for each. Kagome unpacked her bag for the short two-day stay and changed into the kimono provided. She prepared her futon in the middle of the spacious room and laid down for a while. Staring at the ceiling, she collected her breaths, thinking, but not really thinking.

Then she scrambled out and sneakily opened her door. There was no one in the corridor. She hopped stealthily towards Sesshoumaru's room.

"Good evening," the proprietor greeted her suddenly at the corridor end, bowing.

Kagome bowed back. "Good evening! I'm just going to see uh, what my friend is up to..." And she slipped towards Amari's room instead.

Amari invited her inside once she opened the door.

"It's still an hour before dinner," Kagome said.

"I know! Why don't you sit there and let me braid your hair?"

They sat at the futon and Amari started combing down her back. "Oh goodie,” Kagome said. “You're like the sister I never had, Amari. Maybe you should call me Sis from now on."

Amari giggled. "You're too funny, Kagome-sama." She ran her fingers down the long dark tresses. Amari had always kept her own bob short, as she didn't think she could pull a look otherwise. "Can I ask you something though? How are you and my brother doing?"

Kagome picked her words, trying to think of a good way to break it down gently. "He's a great guy. He really is." 

"But you don't like him, don't you?"

"We're good friends right now," she replied carefully, "but I don't think that's going to change."

"Kagome-sama, you know you can just tell me." Amari paused. "You're having an affair with Sesshoumaru-san, aren't you?"

Kagome whirled around. "How did you get that?” _Dammit, and I thought we were keeping a low profile and all._

Amari smiled as she pulled out the comb snagging in Kagome’s hair. "Well, you told me he became your butler in exchange for shelter, right? But he's a successful model now who's more than capable of being independent. And yet, you guys are still staying together. I mean, I may be wrong..."

 _Gosh, that never striked me,_ Kagome thought _. I wouldn't call it an affair though. More like a blasphemous union._

"You're so lucky, you know that."

"Oh Amari, if only you knew."

Someone was knocking on Amari’s door furiously. "Amari! It's Kouhei!" The young man came with a DVD gripped in his hand.

"Let's watch a movie while waiting for dinner!" Then he saw Kagome behind her, and his face blushed slightly. "Eh, you're here too. I guess we could call Sesshoumaru along as well."

No one knew Kouhei had a penchant for classic horror movies. They winced in disgust in the dark room as _'Creature from the Black Lagoon'_ played—the black and white film blaring with feminine screams and flashing webbed feet.

Amari too was screaming in Kouhei's shoulder.

"Why did you play this of all the movies?" Kagome complained. Then she fell Sesshoumaru's hand briefly touch hers, even though there wasn't a flick of emotion on his face.

They had a large spread for dinner afterwards. Amari and Kouhei were still eating even though their stomachs were already full of saké and sashimi. Sesshoumaru did not eat much. After a while he tapped on Kagome’s shoulder.

" _Miko_ _._ I'm going outside for awhile."

It took Kagome a while to register. "Oh," she said. She looked up at him worriedly. “Do you want me to—”

"No, it's alright. Stay here and finish your meal."

Then he disappeared through the door. Kagome was left staring at her food. She knew where he was going. He was going to visit the old bridge, or what it had become of now. The same bridge his ghost had guarded for centuries.

They had been together for two years, and yet Sesshoumaru had never disclosed to her his past. Sometimes it made her insanely curious. Sometimes she thought it was none of her business, that everyone had secrets to bury.

Either way she wished the past did not have to catch up to him right now. She knew his heart was heavy on the way here, how grim his face was when he saw the villa. He must have thought about how much they had desecrated the place his spirit was once attached to.

And why, she would never know. She would never know what happened at the bridge.

Maybe it's for my own good, Kagome thought as she slipped into the onsen later afterwards, clad in a short towel. She had her hair braided in a bun by Amari before dinner. Sitting gingerly in the private hot pool, she sighed as the water slowly lapped away her fatigue.

* * *

Sesshoumaru's shoes padded against the snow. A large garden faced him. There was a cedar tree, its frosted crown shading the bridge crossing over a running pond. The stretch of the Arakawa river that used to pass under it had long dried. The bridge was wooden, not of stone like it was supposed to be. There was nothing there that was supposed to be. Not even the cedar tree.

And yet it was, if he took a step backward. Everything was immaculately arranged in the garden. The stone lanterns. The shrubs of red lily lining the pond's edge. The echoing thud of the _shishi-odishi_ fountain. He figured in a few months' time, after the snow had melted, the garden would reflect what it wanted to be—bright, hopeful, exuberant.

He walked to the bridge and placed his hand on the railing. He wiped the snow off. Its surface was cold and hollow. He waited for something to call out to him, within that wood, but it never did. Sesshoumaru remained rooted to the spot and waited. Nothing came.

The _shishi-odishi_ thudded again. It was watchful, ominous. As if it _knew_.

 _What are you waiting for, Sesshoumaru?_ it seemed to speak to him. _You know she is not here. You denied her the cicada's death. You cast her in stone...remember?_

Sesshoumaru removed his hand. The snowflakes landed softly where he had just touched, melting in his heat. His cheeks suddenly felt wet, small drops running down his face before they fell onto the wood, and after a while he no longer knew if it was really the snow, or his tears.

It was an utmost strange sensation. The warmth of tears against his cold face. Because he had never cried for anything nor for anyone. Not even when he built that stone bridge and buried her body. Her eyes had been full of tears then, his solemn face the very last thing she saw. No, he had pursed his lips tightly, keeping his face so still not even his heart moved.

* * *

Kagome looked up. She watched in surprise as Sesshoumaru walked towards the onsen. He was without a shred of clothing.

She stirred as he waded into the pool, his legs entering the water quietly.

"Hey, it’s against regulations to be naked in an onsen."

He remained silent. Suspiciously silent, even when he settled down beside her. Did something happen when he went outside?

Suddenly Sesshoumaru pulled her close, his grip on her body anything but gentle. Kagome felt a chill in her bones.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Sesshoumaru."

She grasped his face with both hands, and gasped. His eyes were glazed and wet—she couldn't recognize the strange expression in them. Then his freezing hands wandered on her body, and she froze.

_Kagome, you asked me once what I was doing at that bridge. And I told you that I was guarding it._

"Let me feel your heart beating on my skin." Sesshoumaru’s voice was frighteningly hoarse with need. His face dipped to meet hers, their foreheads touching.

"Your breath against mine." He kissed her.

_There is someone who lies within the stone, someone you may once have known from your many fleeting memories, although she does not flit from mine._

Her face stilled, her fingers slowly gripping his shoulders. Then she parted her lips for him. His kiss turned fervent, his tongue adamant. Her heart raced against his skin.

_I still remember that night. It was springtime, and the magnolia tree was shedding. She had come to me crying, begging me to save her. She had never begged before._

Kagome was lost. Inside the hot spring, she felt like she was swimming in fire. Even his hands, wandering and adventurous, exploring every secret place in her body, no longer felt cold.

He ran down his palm down her abdomen, his claws stimulating her. Kagome whimpered in his mouth, as a shot of arousal jolted her. Her hips rocked in reflex, grinding against him. And then she felt it in the water, his hardness, ready and poised near her entrance.

_I obliged, so she would not have to suffer any longer. I gave her mercy, without her resistance._

He lifted her slightly, his tip rubbing against her. His eyes were no longer glazed but feral, alight with desire. It felt like the world had stopped spinning for that very moment.

"My body inside you," he rasped.

Sesshoumaru entered her. Her _reiki_ flared, searing his skin in its white-hot intensity. And then Kagome felt something that made her insides shrink, and the marrow in her bones thin, a resistance quelling her—the sharp spike of _youki_ _._ It danced in her blood like tongues of flame, flickering on its surface.

Their auras were mingling, tasting each other. Her tears began to spill, her body latching to him desperately. He wiped her crying face. His body never stopped moving, his hips withdrawing swiftly, and then sliding in slowly, again and again.

Kagome bit her lip. She tried to think about the way their bodies were joined as one, how he was gradually making her feel dizzy with pleasure, until she was moving alongside with him, trying to seek her own completion.

_The bridge, along with her remnants, have gone now._

He removed her arms around his neck and locked them between their bodies. His thrusts became more urgent, demanding. And she was so slick, receiving him warmly. The water sloshed and splashed around their bodies.

_But you are still here, and your flesh is warm, and I can hear your blood coursing through your veins._

_Your heart resonates with mine, and our souls yearn to be one._

_Can you feel it, Kagome?_

"Give yourself to me," Sesshoumaru whispered. He neared her lips. "Show me that you belong to me."

He kissed her again, and she felt it this time, her soul as it left her lips and fused into his, _reiki_ and _youki_ convalescing, their hearts pounding on a single beat, as the edges of the world became dark, the creak of a door closing shut behind them.

* * *

There was a knock outside her room. It was Amari.

"Kagome-sama, Kouhei is asking if you want to watch the rest of the movie."

Kagome smiled and shook her head. “You go on, Amari. I'm going to have an early night."

"Oh," she replied in surprise. "Have a good rest then. Goodnight, Kagome-sama."

"Amari?" Kagome called her.

She turned at the corridor. "Yes?"

"You're right," Kagome said. "I am with Sesshoumaru."

Her friend broke into a smile. "I knew it! You have that radiant glow on your face. The glow of someone in love.”

Kagome breathed out a laugh. "Well, don't let Kouhei wait for you."

She watched Amari's retreating back as she walked deeper into the corridor. Sweet, innocent Amari.

Then she closed her door and looked over her shoulder. Sesshoumaru was standing by the windows, looking outside as the snow drizzled harder.

She reckoned it was going to be a long and cold night.

 _To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the girl set in stone is Rin. I'm not sure if anyone had guessed her ending that way, but it had been in my mind when I first set out this story. Tell me what you think of the development of this fic so far.  
> Oh yes, without further ado, it’s Amari’s turn on the Useless Trivia Train! Choo-choo!
> 
> Full name: Amari Kirihata  
> (child nickname: Coral Girl)  
> Age: 23 outside, sweet 16 inside  
> Horoscope: Virgo  
> Bloodtype: A
> 
> Lives with strict conservative parents who constantly questions her choices from young, therefore inculcating her lack of self-esteem and constant self-doubt. She easily sees strength in people, and admires them for it.
> 
> Amari chose the shrine life after unable to pick between a sub-par university and a vocational institute. It is at Yukino-jingu where Amari found the love of her life, the ever-charming head priest. He's just like Dad at home, but with lesser wrinkles. If only he would turn his head away from Kagome and look at her instead. But dreamers can dream. 
> 
> Girl has issues but otherwise, a real sweetheart. 
> 
> Things you will never catch Amari saying: "And for that reason, I'm out."


	18. Chances Are

#  **Chances Are**

_Once, five hundred years ago_

_"Sakura, sakura..."_ _  
__  
_Miroku was singing a folk song, his fingers plucking on the shamisen. Beside him Sango sat on the picnic mat, clapping along as Kirara nestled in her lap.

It was no longer spring in Sengoku Jidai. In actuality it was almost the end of August, with autumn encroaching. Kagome sifted through her belongings in her backpack. The zipline was faulty from the constant yanking, and the seams were stretched taut. Anytime now its belly was going to burst open and she would have to go home, passing the defeated bag in shame, and her mom would sigh and say, "You really need to learn stitching."

Stitching was far from her mind now. Her throat was parched after the four-hour trail towards Naraku's nest. She almost cried with relief when Rin suggested innocuously that they take a breather. Her lord didn't look entirely pleased—then again he seldom looked like anything.

Kagome was sure Sesshoumaru's group would prefer to travel at their own pace, but seeing they were inches from Naraku, it was wiser to stick together.

Her flask peeked out among the smorgasbord of items, and she pulled it out with the vigor of the impatient. It was empty. She looked around at the others. Her eyes skimmed past Sango and Miroku. No need to bother them surely. Shippo was teaching Rin a game of Tic-Tac-Toe in the sand as Jaken watched on derisively. Their lord was nowhere to be seen.

And Inuyasha. Kagome looked up and spotted his leg dangling from a branch of the massive, thick-trunked paulownia tree that shaded them. He was dead asleep in an afternoon nap, and his snores were so obnoxious that it was drowning out Miroku's singing.

Standing up, Kagome decided that she would refill her flask herself.

The little stream of river ran through the woods in a winding trail. Earlier on they had trekked alongside it, before it quirked towards another direction and got lost in the dense thickets. Kagome walked back towards it.

As she approached, she realised how deep the brook really was; the river water rushed rapidly and bubbled among the rocks. That, plus the increasing weight of _youki_ settling in the atmosphere. Quiet and subdued, her guts tightened in reflex to the malevolent charge lurking in an undercurrent, like a trickle of electricity buzzing in the air.

It had a distinct flavour in her throat, like smoke. Kagome knew who it was. Still her eyes roved around nervously around her surroundings, among the dappled flurry of greens and browns and splashes of orange. At last she saw him.

Sesshoumaru appeared the same as usual, although it felt like the first time each time her eyes cast upon him. He was but a suppressed beast in a humanoid form, shrouded with soft silk, braced with shiny steel.

His pale translucent skin did not seem to radiate warmth and his eyes were opaque, joyless. An otherworldly beauty clung to his bones like a protective layer, as if to cover the monstrosity beneath. And yet there was a perfection that tied everything together, as cold and superficial as it was. A seamlessness that served to unsettle her each time her eyes chanced upon him.

Kagome could never hold her gaze for too long. It was like looking at something forbidden, something that should not have existed in the first place. It was like looking at a ghost.

Sesshoumaru did not look at her, instead appeared to be occupied with watching the river flow. Kagome treaded to the edge of the stream slowly, where clusters of spider lilies grew in abandon. He probably was already aware she was there, but it still paid to act inconspicuously.

Her flask dunked in the water. She almost grimaced when it began filling with a shrill, hollow sound that pierced the silence. 

Kagome shook her head. Why did she have to tread on eggshells around him? They were allies now, like it or not.

"Hello," she started. "Have you heard of the legend of the red spider lily?"

She heard his hair rustle against his clothes. And then,

“What legend?"

She felt a rush of goosebumps when he spoke. He was interested. Good gods, the youkai Lord of the West was interested in conversation with her!

“Um, you know, the one where if you meet someone along a pathway of lilies, there's a chance you'll never see them again?"

Kagome swore she heard Sesshoumaru laugh—a short, sardonic expulsion that escaped from his throat. Her goosebumps hardened. The flask was heavy in her hand, full of water. Still, she didn't move.

"A frivolous sentiment," he said. His voice was lazy and deliberate; opulent and deep . In her head, Kagome imagined thick honey being spread on bread.

"Well, it's up to you to believe. It's just a legend, after all," she replied briskly. She stood up and capped shut her flask. Why did she even bother opening her mouth? She turned to leave.

"And if we go along with that sentiment, I suppose this may be our last meeting."

Kagome stilled and stared at him. Her eyes lowered to his lithe fingers, curled around the stalk of a red lily. The thin crimson petals contrasted vulgarly against the paleness of his skin. Kagome was distracted for a moment, to see if he would pluck it.

When she blinked, she realized the magnanimity of his words. If this was their last meeting here, with Naraku so close, would that mean one of them would soon be...

"I hope not," Kagome said, holding her flask tightly. "I hope we do meet each other again, after everything. I… I pray for it."

Sesshoumaru tilted his face. He finally looked at her. The bright reflection of the river waved on his otherwise placid face. For some reason, his sharp eyes made her heart pound.

"I admire your optimism," Sesshoumaru then said. "May the gods hear your prayer."

The lily came away with his hand. Kagome watched, entranced, as he graced it with one last fleeting gaze. As then just as quick, his hand flicked, and the lily flew into an arc in the air, falling to the surface of the river where it was stolen by the current, never to be seen again.

* * *

There was a croaking sound, akin to a frog's when he pushed the door into the florist. Sesshoumaru thought it was odd that of all the things, one would use that as a door chime. When his eyes wandered across the expanse of the whole store however, filled with vases of various flowers and fronds and wood ornaments, their colours and scents creating a small explosion in his head, he decided to retract his opinion. A frog was very much ideal.

He strode to the counter, a hand in his coat.

"Good afternoon. I would like a customized bouquet, please."

The florist, a twentyish young woman, was busy writing an invoice. Nevertheless, she looked up and smiled.

"Good afternoon. Sure, sir. Is there a particularly special occasion?"

He seemed to hem and haw for a moment.

"An anniversary," he told her at last.

"Ah, how sweet." The lady walked around the counter, to a rotating shelf of freshly cut flowers.

"We just had a batch of stargazer lilies that arrived this morning. Does your partner like lilies?"

She saw the subtle shift of emotion on Sesshoumaru's face.

The lady hesitated. "I'm just saying, some people don't really like the smell of lilies."

"No." And he reiterated. "No lilies."

The three apprentices walked down the long flight of cobbled steps of Yukino-jingu after a day's work. For some reason Kouhei glanced over his shoulder, then elbowed Kagome beside him.

"Hana-sama is at it again."

The two _miko_ turned to look, then regretted it instantly. Jyohaku and Hana were descending the stairs as well, with the latter latching to the priest in the most coquettish manner. It was like watching a pair of peacocks in a courting display, but with their genders switched. A further observation would definitely induce vomiting.

"Don't look at them, Amari," Kagome said lightly.

Amari's face was bleak. She hung her head. "Why must she do those kind of things?" She sighed despondently. "I'll never understand. She doesn't even like him properly. I heard her talking on the phone to her friend about what a stick in the mud she really finds him.”

Kagome shrugged. "Well, there's always all sorts of people. That's how you make the world a more interesting place, right? But then, what I would do to make her trip and roll down the stairs!"

"Kagome-sama, that's mean!"

Kagome and Kouhei hooted with laughter.

They nearly reached the foot of the stairs. A familiar sensation suddenly overcame her, causing her heartbeat to quicken. She looked up. Down by the first _torii_ gate, was Sesshoumaru waiting for her.

She skipped down the stairs breathlessly.

"Sesshoumaru," she called.

_"Miko."_

They met face to face. Sesshoumaru looked especially handsome in a coat she had never seen before. She could smell expensive perfume. Kagome couldn't hide her elated smile.

"I thought you were busy with work."

"Call me impatient, but I have something that might surprise you. Also," Sesshoumaru said, and his arm came forward from his back, a large bouquet greeting her astounded eyes, "Here is a little something for starters."

Kagome was speechless. Slowly she accepted it, awed by the lone sunflower blooming brightly amidst the gorgeous gathering of orange roses, white baby's breath, bleeding hearts and lavender.

Behind her Amari gasped in surprise, covering her mouth. "How romantic!" she gushed.

"I made plans for dinner as well," Sesshoumaru continued, taking her hand, now weak with shock.

"But I'm still in my shrine attire."

He raised a paper bag from nowhere. "Worry not. Everything has been thought of."

"And he's so prepared too!"

Kouhei whistled. "There you go. The perks of dating your own butler."

"What's this commotion about?" Hana suddenly bustled into the scene. She stared at Sesshoumaru and Kagome in surprise. “Wait, aren’t you that famous model?” 

“Yup, and he’s dating her,” Amari said cheekily.

She glared at Kagome contemptuously. "You're hogging the path!" she then raged, pushing her aside as she stormed off. A moment later Jyohaku passed them, and he quirked an eyebrow at the couple. Sesshoumaru responded with a steely stare of his own. 

"Who was that woman?" Sesshoumaru then asked.

Kagome folded her arms tightly. "It's this bi—”

"Ah-ah," he said, holding her chin up. "A good _miko_ does not curse like so."

"For the last time, I'm a _modern_ _miko_..."

"Kagome-sama, we'll make a move. I hope you guys have a wonderful date," Amari said, waving bashfully at them. "Kouhei, maybe we ought to get ourselves dinner too."

They were finally alone to themselves. Kagome pulled Sesshoumaru to a nearby stone bench. She breathed in her flowers.

"Thank you so much. You're so sweet, Sesshoumaru."

"Do you like the flowers?" he asked, just for the sake of it.

"I _love_ them." She saw a little hand-written note hiding among the bunches of lavender, and read it.

_"To many more years."_

A light frown dusted her features.

"But what's the occasion? As far as I remember, it's not my birthday."

Sesshoumaru rapped her forehead. "Your memory leaves much to be desired."

Quietly they covered the stone path, hand in hand, until they reached the streets. A car beamed and beeped towards them. Sesshoumaru walked forward, only to lean against it.

"Well? What do you think?" he said. There was a small, prideful smile on his face. His hand smoothed against the shiny, silver exterior. "It's one of the latest models from Lexus. I liked it, and I thought you would too."

Kagome's jaw dropped. "W-wait. I thought your surprise was the flowers!"

"No, _miko._ It's a brand new car. For the both of us."

She wanted to faint.

They drove to the restaurant. Inside the car, Kagome joked as to when Sesshoumaru had learned to drive.

"I hope it's not one of those things that you magically just know."

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "Perhaps."

She looked at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. "Where are we eating, by the way?"

"Somewhere Mr Morikawa and I always frequent,” he said, referring to his manager. “Every time I'm there, I think about how you should be there too."

"It sounds like a really nice place."

"Indeed it is."

"You think about me a lot in everything you do, don't you?"

His golden-ochre eyes slid to hers.

"I think about you even when I sleep. If you wish to know, it is actually a curse more than anything else."

"Gee," she replied, folding her arms tightly. "I was about to say I think of you all the time too, and you just had to spoil it."

Kagome clasped her hands together as Sesshoumaru pored over the menu in the restaurant. Tetsuya’s was packed, despite only accepting reservations. The air buzzed with a low chatter from its patrons, the soft tinkling of cutlery against plates.

“You know, this is my first time in a fine-dining restaurant. I really feel all out of sorts here," Kagome said, rubbing her arms self-consciously. She studied the other patrons who all dressed and laughed with an undeniable air of affluence.

Even Sesshoumaru seemed to align with the crowd, and this was the biggest observation she made—his jarring transition to become an actual member in society. It was good, she guessed, and he was doing really well, at a really fast pace. It had been in him all along, that strive to always reach higher places.

Some things never really change.

“And it won't be the first,” Sesshoumaru replied, running his finger slowly through each offering on the mains section. "The important thing is to focus on yourself and enjoy the experience." He peered up. “What are you getting by the way?”

Kagome’s eyes darted to her menu placed flat before her. “The uh, Spanner Crab with Bisque Custard & Burnt Onion Dashi.”

He rubbed his jaw, still mulling over his choice. “In that case… I shall have the Slow Braised Wagyu Oyster Blade with Celeriac, Enoki and Lemon Thyme. Hmm, that is quite a mouthful, no?” and he started counting the words on his fingers, “Slow-Braised-Wagyu-Oyster-Blade…”

She laughed at him. “Hmm, how about dessert?”

“Petit Fours,” he immediately answered, his voice as grim as it was absolute. “Never leave Tetsuya's without their Petit Fours.”

The waiter came and recorded their orders on a digital tablet.

“Shall we get some wine?” Sesshoumaru suddenly turned to her.

“W-wine?” she stuttered. "I really have no knowledge of what wine is good. I've always been a, you know, an Asahi Super Dry kind of girl.”

"No matter." He turned back to the waiter. “We shall proceed with white wine. Two glasses of Riesling, please. And the Petit Fours. Do not forget them.”

Kagome had no idea what Petit Fours were or why they were so important, and she smiled, and she looked at his serious face, and she laughed again.

She held his hand on the table and lightly squeezed it.

"Thank you for bringing me here today. We should go out on frequent dates like this."

His eyebrows raised. His fingers pulled away. "Date? Who said this was a date?"

"Oh. It's not? But I thought—"

Then his warm hand returned to clasp on hers. "Just a little joke. Of course it is. Well, have you remembered what occasion exactly we're celebrating?"

Kagome thought long and hard, her face scrunching up like a dried prune. At last today's date registered some familiarity into her and she almost shot up from her seat. How could it have missed her?

"It's the day of the binding!"

"Yes, it is. You could have worded it less literally, however." 

The waiter came with their wine and served it into their glasses.

"Let's have a toast," Sesshoumaru said, raising his glass.

"To many more years," Kagome announced, remembering the note.

"No," Sesshoumaru corrected. His eyes glimmered. "To _forever."_

Their glasses clinked. 

The silver Lexus wound up around the hills. It had become their favourite spot, that corner at the top that overlooked the town. When they reached, the place was quiet and soulless. In other words, perfect.

They remained in their car seats, watching the view from the windscreen. Sesshoumaru rolled down the windows slightly, letting the breeze slip in. He tapped his finger against the steering wheel. After a moment of consideration, he decided to switch on the radio, the mumbled voices of a radio deejay filling the space between them. 

It was their first time coming here at night. The town's busy lights were like small colourful dots against a dark canvas. Kagome's eyes roamed over the vast settlements, at the rows of lights, and as much as she tried to, she could not find a logical pattern to link them all like a puzzle.

Sesshoumaru leaned close beside her. He pointed to something further up in the distance—at the quiet dark mountains rolling in deep slumber, as if guarding the town, old as time. Up above the full moon hung on the vast open sky, an omniscient king accompanied by his twinkling followers.

“That view up there in the mountains,” he said, tracing its dusky peaks with his finger, “Do you see that? Down there, that is Mount Kajima, overshadowed by the ever-impressive Mount Fuji. Of course you're unable to really see much at this time of the night. People usually only come here to see the town lights.” He relapsed into a deep silence. “This scene is the only thing that has not changed here in Tokyo.”

Kagome smiled wistfully. She didn't know what to say each time he spoke about things like that. The past was foreign to her now—a secret faraway door in a forest labyrinth, swallowed into the walls.

A familiar song started to play softly on the speakers. She looked at Sesshoumaru. "Hey, don't we have this song in the old records at home? I really love this one."

Sesshoumaru listened for a while. It turned out to be _Chances Are_ by Johnny Mathis. "Yes, we do.” Then his eyes met with hers. "Shall we?"

He took her hand and led her out of the car. The song continued to play from the open windows. Kagome giggled as she placed her hands shyly on his shoulders, while his gentle hands held her waist. Their bodies swayed in a slow dance. Their gazes never left each other.

Kagome blushed as Sesshoumaru performed a quiet serenade, his voice low and tender in her ears. She closed her eyes as she sighed, her breath withering on his neck. Her hand stroked down his back. His comforting warmth against her body was surreal, just like everything, up until that point, was.

"I feel like I'm in a movie," she said. Her voice was tremulous, the beginning of a confession. "I'm so happy right now, that I'm... I'm almost scared." She pressed her nose against his shoulder. "Do you feel what I'm feeling?"

"No," Sesshoumaru replied firmly. "Everything here is real. Neither a dream, nor a simulation. It's the whole, unwavering truth." He cupped her small face, trembling in his hands. "You just need to close your eyes and let it sink in."

"What if I open my eyes and I wake up?"

"Do it," he said. "Close your eyes. And you’ll find that I am still here."

Kagome closed her eyes. Sesshoumaru's voice reverberated in the deepest channels of her ears, its echoes ebbing into her chest.

_"Can you hear me? I will always be here for you. Even if it is the last thing you want."_

She gripped him blindly. "No. How can you be the last thing I want?"

Her lips desperately sought for his.

"I want you now and forever," she whispered against him.

_"And you will. You will."_

* * *

Kagome opened her eyes. She started in her empty bed, awakened from a deep sleep. Her wild eyes searching, she ran out of her bedroom, stopped to think, then dashed into the kitchen.

Sesshoumaru was preparing breakfast at the stove. She could smell pancakes in the air, a spatula in his hand. And he was wearing his old Hello Kitty apron.

He looked at Kagome over his shoulder and smiled.

 _To be continued…_ _  
_


	19. Arc III: Boy in the Woods

#  **Arc III: Boy in the Woods**

_She had been on the way to the cave when she heard his cries._

_Kikyou knelt closer to the boy. He was a ravenous creature, gobbling through the rice crackers like an imp, but an imp she knew he was not. Despite his foreign clothes and peculiar speech, he looked like any other child who had wandered in too deep into the woods._

_The miko observed as he ate the food she had offered. She hated rice crackers the most; they were salty little things, but Onigumo loved them, which was the only reason they were in her keep._

_She kindly stroked his hair. When she saw him, she knew instantly that he was not of this realm. Kikyou had heard enough stories from the old village head; of strange people that crept out from this magical forest. This boy was one of them. He had escaped from somewhere, a tiny doorway on the tree, or perhaps a deep burrow underneath the ground._

_A warm delight spread across her chest and she smiled. It was her first time chancing upon one of these fabled beings. A poor, fear-stricken child crying over his injured foot. She could not remember when she last felt this much excitement; bound by her restrictive shrine duties, she secretly ached to meet new people._

_"Eat more," she urged, bringing forth more crackers. "Eat more, little child. And worry not, for I will take care of you."_

* * *

A little jingle played in the speakers of the supermarket, signalling an automated announcement.

"Dear shoppers, please be informed the daily time sale in our store has commenced. Thank you for shopping."

Kagome walked down the aisle, looking at the detergent section. Her eyes scanned the rows of colourful liquid bottles, until it came to an empty space on the shelves. To her dismay, the Attack brand was out of stock.

No, Sesshoumaru would kick up a fuss if they used anything else.

She walked out of the aisle. There was a mad squabble at the fruits section as two old ladies fought over a watermelon. Other impatient housewives were grabbing the last of onion bags and long stalks of leek, while some hunkered with as much egg cartons their baskets could carry. In other words, a completely normal scene during a time sale.

A staff member appeared, looking extremely flustered as he tried to break up the fight. He was in a formal attire, implying his higher position in the supermarket. Kagome immediately felt sorry for him.

When the argument died down and the old ladies grumbled off, she quickly approached and tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, do you have any more Attack liquid detergent?"

"Oh!" he said, with an eagerness to serve. He ran to the aisle with her. "We just had a customer buy an entire lot. But you know, you can always try the powder version. Or maybe you would like to try the Ariel brand instead? It's the second most popular brand here in Family Mart, and just as good!"

He paused when he realised Kagome was staring hard at him. Her sheer look alone killed the words on his tongue. Did he say something wrong? Was she really pissed she couldn't get the detergent she wanted?

His hand touting the Ariel detergent began to shake.

"Er, I'm very sorry but if you really need that urgently, you may have to get it elsewhere. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience..."

Her stare did not subside. He fell on his knees, prostrating himself on the ground. "I'm so sorry, Kagome-sama! I really didn't wanna disappoint you!"

Kagome took a step backwards, her hand over her mouth barely concealing her loud gasp. Her basket that hung on her arm slipped and fell, toppling over. Her grocery items danced on the floor as if in slow-motion.

She watched as he rushed to gather her items, panicking in a manner that was so familiar to her…

"Ichiro?" Kagome ventured breathlessly. "Is that you?"

He looked up in surprise, a bunch of potatoes in his hands. "Of course, it is. Who did you think it was?"

Something clicked in his eyes and he started to laugh. "Oh, darn it! I forgot that we haven't met for some time. I had to go through a make-over shortly after becoming the store manager."

"They didn't let you keep your style?" Kagome asked, still in disbelief. "So, no more dyed hair or piercings?"

Ichiro stood up and shook his head sadly. "The management said I had to look the part." Then he smiled and straightened his tie with a triumphant look. "Heh. But don't you think I look more _professional_ now?"

Kagome knelt on the ground, recovering her items. There was a glum look on her face. "I don't know, Ichiro." She gave a resigned sigh. "I don't know anything anymore."

* * *

Kagome lifted her sunglasses over her face, letting it rest over her head. She glanced at Ichiro.

Ichiro’s looks had undergone a full 180 degrees with his dark eyebrows and natural hair. She knew him for close to five years. It was beyond her imagination that this was how his real face actually appeared.

Kagome was _scared_ to look at him. It felt like a slap to her face, and made her a little ill in the stomach. Ichiro resembled... She swallowed. She couldn't bear to say _his_ name.

_Inuyasha._

She shook her head and cleared her throat. "Here, you said?"

"Yup, right here. This is where I sat, under this tree.”

Kagome and Ichiro had trekked themselves up Yamanote Memorial Hill. The sun was blazing over their backs on the cloudless sky. It had been raining only an hour before. They strayed off the beaten track, following Ichiro's re-enactment of the fateful day twenty years ago.

It was during a school trip, he had related to her, and they were making their way up the hill—or more like a _mountain_ to his ten-year old legs—when he heard someone call his name in the woods surrounding them.

Ichiro squatted on the ground, his eyes carefully observing the dense foliage.

"Doesn't look like anything now, does it? Actually, I can't believe you followed me here. I didn't think anyone would believe my story so quickly."

He looked at Kagome, only to realize she was giving him that stare again. It made him perspire even harder under the heat.

She turned away. The dead leaves crunched noisily under her shoes as she walked, inspecting the area. The camphor tree Ichiro had pointed was a behemoth towering the other trees. It had to be a least a few hundred years old.

"So, you got lost in the woods and someone came to help you?"

"No, I actually slipped and fell, and twisted my ankle in the process. I must have made a whole lotta noise, because someone then heard my cries, and came over. Just a complete stranger. She carried me on her back, and that's when I realized she was bringing me to a _village."_

Kagome widened her eyes at him.

Ichiro continued. "A real, teeming village. Not those artificial, touristy kinds. With people in real shabby clothes and old-fashioned hairstyles. I knew somehow I wasn't in Tokyo anymore. They all spoke in a different dialect." He frowned as he picked up fragments of his old memory. "I was there for a few days. She kept me in a hiding place, and behaved really secretive with me. I didn't know why. I was out of my wits, and I couldn't walk."

"What kind of person was she?"

He gave a little smile. "She was kind. She bandaged my ankle and she gave me food and water. I remember everything about her. Her face, her voice. She had a gentle touch. She was a... She was a _miko_."

"Oh," Kagome said, slightly taken aback.

"When I could finally manage myself, she guided me back to this tree. I paced a few steps ahead, but when I turned back, she had disappeared. And then I heard my teachers calling me." 

Ichiro shook his head, his lips pursed tightly.

"None of them believed me. They said only a few hours had passed since I went missing. And that there was no such thing as a village around here." He gave an exasperated sigh accompanied by a painful expression. "I kinda got famous in school for it. People thought I was weird, and I regularly got teased. For awhile I just stopped talking to people."

Kagome took a moment, before she decided to offer her reply. "Well, just so you know there really was a village here. But it thrived only until the Meiji Restoration."

Ichiro turned to her, his bright eyes gleaming. "I know! I did my research. I've been coming to this hill every year, hoping that it would somehow happen again but it never did. There really was a village here, hundreds of years ago! That's how my theory was further cemented." He hesitated over his words but looking at Kagome, something urged him further. "That I really went back through time."

Kagome removed her sunglasses and smiled at him. "I do believe you, Ichiro. I believe everything you said. It's really not that impossible. You must have slipped through a temporary crack in the timeline."

Ichiro was over the moon as he shook her shoulders.

"Right? My god, I'm so happy! You don't know how long I needed someone to believe me!"

Kagome was startled as he gave her a hug. She patted his back slowly.

"I know how it feels," she said.

"I'm so sorry," Ichiro said, holding her tightly, "I'm just so overwhelmed right now. Just...just give me a moment, alright."

Kagome nodded. She wished there was someone like him back then, someone she could have traded her stories with. Maybe she wouldn't have spiralled down that hole of misery, claiming her college education and so many years off her life.

The late priest wouldn't have healed her. And she probably would not have been a _miko_ now.

"I swear you're perfect in every way. It's just unfair," Ichiro whispered as he released her.

"What's unfair?" Kagome didn't understand.

"How he comes into the picture and steals you away just like that." His voice was a bit bitter, but mostly sad. "I've been standing here before you all this time, and you've never even noticed me."

Kagome felt her heart squeeze painfully.

_No Ichiro, don't look at me like that—_

They heard the sound of falling rain. Before they knew it the skies had opened up, throwing a hot shower. They ran out of the woods, searching for cover. 

Kagome followed him home, riding pillion on his motorcycle. Ichiro lent her his raincoat, leaving himself without. It began to rain cats and dogs and he was drenched to the bone.

Reaching his apartment, she was quickly reminded of its micro living conditions.

"You have books all over your floor," she groaned, as she stumbled down the narrow hallway in her damp clothes. She picked up the magazine she had accidentally kicked. This one looked different than the rest, and she spotted a demure model inside the pages, wearing a shrine maiden's costume.

She smacked the magazine at him. "It's true, isn't it, you do have a _miko_ fetish. Amari told me you have a thing for them for ages. Now it kinda makes sense."

"Errr, I'll go change my clothes first, real quick," Ichiro mumbled in embarrassment, skipping into the bathroom as fast as he could.

Kagome continued to pick his books scattering on the floor, doing a little house-keeping. His obsession with time travel was insane. Other than that weird magazine, it was all he read about.

But why? Her thoughts suddenly prodded her. Why does Ichiro look so much like _him?_ She had been trying to avoid coming to that conclusion, and now it felt as though a light had been cast forcefully to her face.

What if…Ichiro was really his reincarnation? And by that logic, he was granted with the ability to travel through time. But their personalities were worlds apart and he was nothing like that person at all... 

Then again it wasn't a fair assessment, Kagome realized, because _she_ was a prime example of that.

Someone whispered her name. Kagome stilled, the books dropping from her grasp. It had come from the closet.

She eyed the bathroom door cautiously. Ichiro was still changing inside. She stared at the closet door, hard enough to drill a hole through, challenging it to prove that it was just her mere imagination.

The voice whispered again. This time she felt her hairs stand on her body, and that sick feeling in her stomach exacerbated, a low, sinister thrumming.

Kagome walked to the closet and opened it. A woman stood inside, dressed in a complete _miko_ attire.

She had a face Kagome could never forget, because she saw it everyday in her own.

The one person that made her strive harder for everything in life, so she could prove to herself that she was as good—an old shadow that lurked in her subconscious, permanently shaping her quiet insecurities.

Her own voice whispered to her: _Kikyou_.

Kagome felt her knees give way.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open. She saw nothing but white space, and for a moment wondered if she had died and was floating in non-existence.

Her vision slowly adjusted itself as the stringent smell of disinfectant filled her nose. An overhead fan spinned quietly. She was in a hospital ward.

Immediately the horrors of the day swarmed back into memory.

"Kagome-sama, you're awake."

She turned her body away and covered her ears. "No," she murmured. "No, go away."

She felt as Ichiro neared the bed, a hand towards her. "Please, I can explain! What you saw was a mannequin—"

"No!" She lashed her eyes angrily at him.

"Why do you like me, Ichiro? Is it because I look like _her?"_

"What? No..." There was confusion, guilt, and a cloying kind of concern in his voice. "Kagome-sama, I'm _worried_ about you—"

Kagome drew her knees up and shut her eyes, her fingers tugging on her hair. "I said leave me alone!" Her body shook as her sobs overtook her. "Please! I'm begging you right now..."

The door to the ward slammed open with a jarring bang. Ichiro jerked in shock. Sesshoumaru suddenly appeared in the doorway, his figure dark and imposing.

"Did you not hear what she said?" His eyes simmered in rage.

 _“Sesshoumaru!”_ Kagome called out, her hands reaching for him as though she was drowning. When he finally took her in his arms, she clung to him, breathing in his warm scent, and the world was safe and calm once more, away from the sheer madness of everything else.

"It's alright," came his comforting voice. "I'm here."

Her tears kept flowing. "Please, I want to go home. Bring me back, Sesshoumaru."

Sesshoumaru looked over at Ichiro. His glare was dangerous, predatory. Then quietly his eyes began to glow, as though a fire was burning in them.

"Why are you still here?"

Ichiro shook. Suddenly the lights in the ward started to flicker. He stammered on his feet, gasping as he raised his head.

The fluorescent lights above had gotten so bright the tubes were going to burst. He heard a buzzing noise, a spark somewhere, and he knew then they were really going to explode— 

—and it was all done by _him_.

Ichiro ran.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh... A cliffhanger!


	20. Make Me Forget

#  **Make Me Forget**

“Why do they find joy in such things?”

She hadn’t been eating her meals well ever since she left the hospital. She hadn’t been taking care of herself properly, for that matter. A kind of solace and comfort presented itself at the corner of her bed, and she curled herself there quietly for days—like a small rabbit hibernating in a deep burrow during winter—shutting herself from the rest of the world.

Sesshoumaru had taken to personally feed and bathe her, tasks she no longer found important. Kagome had a larger matter to worry about, a putrid coagulation of thoughts that festered like gangrene in her mind. It had robbed her capability to function in a normal manner.

She was getting better now as the days passed. She had started talking to him.

After a morning bath, Sesshoumaru was brushing through the matted tangles in her hair when she suddenly posed him the question.

He paused for a while. _“They?_ Who’s they?”

“The gods,” Kagome replied. “Why do they find joy in such things? Playing _tricks_ like that.”

Her tone was surprisingly lucid, although lacking in her usual exuberance. It was apparent this question had been moldering in her mind for days.

He continued to work the hairbrush gently through her long tresses, taking his time.

“Perhaps they think we are taking ourselves too seriously,” he answered. “Hence, the occasional twists and turns of fate.”

“I don’t see any humour in it at all.”

“It was never about us to begin with.”

Sesshoumaru knew from her rigid breaths that there was something she wanted to claw out of her chest. He did not coax her; rather preferred to let it simmer inside until it reached its boiling point.

She turned slightly to pierce him with a distrustful eye.

“Did you know who Ichiro was from the very beginning? Or were you emulating the gods—taking a backseat as you watch everything unfurl?”

Sesshoumaru pulled back her hair, gathering them into a tight bunch. He secured it with a hair tie, then brushed down her ponytail until it shone smoothly. He ran the strands through his fingers. Not bad, he thought, admiring his handiwork, seeing that it had looked like a dark stack of hay only minutes ago.

Sesshoumaru placed the hairbrush back on the dresser.

“That Ichiro was Inuyasha’s reincarnation? The signs were blatantly obvious. You just did not see them.” He moved around to smoothen the front of her dress, and saw her discontented look. “I assumed you had noticed my thinly-veiled disdain of him, at the very least.”

Kagome breathed out a wry laugh. “So not only am I blind, I’m stupid too.”

“‘Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise’. There is a certain sense of liberation, in being unable to see or know.”

She became unsettlingly quiet, and he admitted his fault in ruffling her feathers. The last thing he wanted was for her to withdraw back in that shell of despair.

“Well, what do you want to do about him?” he asked.

A slight tension drew on her forehead as her eyes conjured up an image.

“He keeps a mannequin of that person. To think that it’s loosely based on a memory twenty years ago; I find it amazing how he got most of her features right.”

She shook her head, laughing her wry laugh again. “I don’t think I want to see him ever again. It’s different now. I don’t think I can handle it, just _remembering.”_

* * *

Ichiro's hand trembled as he held his lighter aflame to his cigarette. The breeze was picking up, carrying a faint scent of rain. It was a quarter after midnight, and he had just finished his shift. Standing beside his red Kawasaki in his motorcycle jacket as he finished the last sticks in his pack, he learnt something new that day—that the taste of smoked tobacco and salty tears didn't mix well in his throat.

And really, what a crybaby he was, crying over a _girl_ in the car park, and no wonder the kids used to tease him back then all the time...

His phone rang and he jolted. He slipped his lighter into the breast pocket of his jacket, then quickly filched out his phone.

Ichiro answered the call, wiping his eyes just in time. His sister's high-pitched voice came on the line.

" _Onii-chan!_ What took you so long to answer?"

He removed his cigarette from his lips. "Sorry. It's really late though, Amari. What's up?"

"Nothing, just that I'm sick of having to think of excuses whenever Mom and Dad are asking about you. You know you haven't visited us for ages."

"Right. I just don't feel like seeing Dad's face."

"Why don't you just tell them the truth? That you're not really an insurance agent?" Amari's voice seemed to get smaller. "I know you've been working at the supermarket, and I promise you that we'll love you all the same."

"How did you know?"

"Oh _onii-chan_ _,_ it's such a small town... There's really nowhere you can hide."

Ichiro sighed. He had nothing else to say.

"Look, I have an idea. My birthday is coming. I think it's a good opportunity for you to visit. And oh! I'll make sure Mom doesn't ask again when you're getting married!"

"Yeah, you better do," he replied. "Amari, I gotta go now. You take care of yourself. I hope you're still not crushing on that priest."

"Idiot! That's none of your business. I'm so mad at you right now. Goodnight!"

He laughed and said goodnight to his sister, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. He wore his helmet and mounted his Kawasaki as it revved to life.

He sped into the empty highway. It was a long and winding road atop a tall cliff, his right facing the rippling ocean. Ichiro didn't feel like going home that night. He wished he could feel the cool ocean winds blowing at his face for eternity, his big bike bringing him to anywhere but there.

There was a man right in the middle of the road. Ichiro swerved hard to the left, and his motorcycle crashed into the metal barriers. The impact caused his body to fling out to the opposite direction. He saw a glimpse of the ocean, as his body slammed and rolled over the barriers at the edge of the cliff.

In a sinking hopeless fear, he felt the cloak of doom enshroud him, the banal events of his whole life whizzing past his eyes.

His body stopped itself before it careened into the death trap below. A jutting rock below the edge had snagged the back of his jacket. He hung there precariously, his feet touching the stomach-roiling image of the crashing sea waves a hundred feet below him, the wind howling in his face.

For the first time in his life, Ichiro actually prayed.

"You."

He looked up. He saw the man standing above. If the man bent down and extended his hand, Ichiro could be saved...

"Help me!" he cried. He didn't dare to raise his hand—a wrong movement would spell a quick death.

The man stood there quietly, watching him. He had a pair of flaming beacons for eyes, his long silvered hair whipping in the wind behind him. The creeping realization of who he was made Ichiro’s fear spike to unspeakable heights.

"I cannot hear you."

"Help me, please!" He had tears in his eyes again. "I don't want to die here."

"Why not? A pest deserves to die the moment it is discovered."

Against the loud sound of the crashing waves, Ichiro could feel his own heart thumping in his ears. A cold dread seized him. He remembered the haunting pair of glowing eyes and the flickering lights. It was either the man, or the sharp, jagged rocks below him. 

"I admit that was my folly, letting you run around heedless. And now you have overstepped your boundaries."

"I didn't do anything! Please, just help me!"

He shook his head slowly. "I cannot simply forgive anyone who hurts her."

The man knelt down. This time Ichiro could see his face clearer in the lamplight. His obscure name finally loomed in his mind: _Sesshoumaru._ That was the name she screamed for.

"Do you wish to know how he died?" Sesshoumaru asked. The smile he slowly presented was chilling. _"Your predecessor."_

His hand reached down, but not to help. Instead it hovered near Ichiro’s pocket, and slipped out the lighter within.

Sesshoumaru struck the lighter near Ichiro's face, the burning flame dancing dangerously in the wind, licking on his skin.

"They found his charred remains inside that burnt orphanage. Black, as soot."

" _No_. No, please," Ichiro cried, shaking his face away. The bright flame illuminated the tears running down his cheeks.

"He will never plead for me to save his life. Not like what you're doing," Sesshoumaru said. "And that is why... _you are smarter than him."_

His jacket slipped over the rock, finally giving way under his weight. Ichiro reached out his hand in a desperate bid as he fell, and Sesshoumaru caught it in his, holding him firmly. 

On the road Ichiro succumbed to his knees. He retched, his dinner spilt on the concrete ground. Wiping his mouth, he rolled over, shaking as he hugged himself. Sesshoumaru knelt beside him.

"What do you want from me?" he bawled, shielding his face.

"Do you love her?" Sesshoumaru asked matter-of-factly, in a manner one would enquire about the weather. "Do you love her, Kagome Higurashi?"

"Yes." His teeth gritted. "Yes, because she's kind and she's sweet and she believes in me."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "But she is suffering now because of you, can you see? She has almost lost her mind like a raging lunatic. It was no easy feat to drag her back to her senses.

Now if you wish to play the hero in her story, you will know what to do to ease her torment, no?"

He slipped the lighter back into Ichiro's pocket.

"Perhaps you will have better luck in your next life. But for now, goodbye."

Ichiro opened his eyes just slightly, shuddering behind his arms. He could hear the sound of Sesshoumaru’s footsteps receding on the concrete. 

A great wind came, ruffling through his torn jacket. Then the skies opened and the rain came beating unabashedly on his body, and he became all cold and sober and alone in the middle of that road, as if everything that happened was only but a mere hallucination.

The lingering taste of tears and smoke would remain in his throat.

* * *

Kagome leaned into her bathroom mirror. She had been standing there for two hours, studying herself. Two hours to convince herself that there was remotely nothing in her to suggest that she was that woman in her previous life.

She remembered vaguely having this exercise when she was fifteen years old. Here she was right now, twelve years later—her unbridled angst from yesteryears now tamer, but still having to relive the experience of hashing those same thoughts.

The slender bridge of her nose burgeoning to a bulbous tip. The way she barely covered her mouth when she laughed, her occasional impertinence towards authority. What her thoughts were on the Liberal Democratic Party and the Yomiuri Giants baseball team. How her favourite movie was Shrek and how she secretly loathed rice crackers.

"Kagome Higurashi," she mouthed her name carefully into the mirror. She locked with her dark eyes in her reflection. "That's who you are."

Sesshoumaru sat at his desk in his room in the dark, the muffled sounds of the thunderstorm outside his window accompanying him. His eyes were fixated on the bright screen of his laptop, as his finger scrolled down on a recent news article.

 _'NEW TERRORIST GROUP CLAIMS RECENT ATTACKS IN EASTERN CAPE, SOUTH AFRICA,'_ the headline said.

He heard a soft knock on the door. Sesshoumaru closed his web browser.

Kagome had changed into a white shift for the night. He wondered if she was aware of how the diaphanous material did little to hide the shapely silhouette of her body.

"Will you be going to bed?" she asked.

"Not tonight.” He saw the shift of emotions on her face. “Is something the matter?”

"I need someone beside me while I sleep," Kagome replied quietly. She glanced away. "Specifically you."

He shrugged. "Perhaps if you say please when you ask..."

Her eyes swept back at him. They were as cold and sharp as the smile on her face. "Oh, I'm not asking you, Sesshoumaru. I'm _ordering_ you to." She could sense him fidget inside, tensing under his well-kept façade. 

"Yes, my lady," he replied in a strained voice.

Kagome nodded and turned for her room. She hadn't taken a few steps when her body was suddenly lifted from the ground in a swift motion.

Sesshoumaru carried her bridal-style, despite her flustered protests. He placed her in bed, tucking in her weighted blankets in a painstaking, methodical manner. "Any more orders, my lady?" he asked. "I have the rest of my life to fulfill them."

"Yes," she breathed. She waited until his gaze settled on hers. "I want you to make me forget everything that's happened. _Please_."

"You are not being very clear, _miko_. I only act on clear directives—"

She raised her head and kissed his cheek. Her soft lips lingered to the side of his face, at the juncture below his ear. Then further down his neck, leaving a slow trail of fluttering, warm kisses. Her hand slipped under his shirt, smoothening up his abdomen and hard chest.

Her teeth grazed against his collarbone, as a finger carelessly brushed against his nipple. Sesshoumaru clenched his jaw, all his strength perused in a single, ragged breath.

Kagome whispered in his ear.

"Is this clear enough for you, Sesshoumaru?"

The rain did not falter outside the windows. If anything it had grown denser in the night, the ground shaking with thunder as the torrential storm persisted in its rage.

Sesshoumaru moved relentlessly, surrendering all of himself and everything within. Their bodies were caught in a whirlwind of fire, where only a soul-escaping climax could subdue its flames.

 _"Just like that, just like that,"_ Kagome chanted feverishly as she moved with him. Her eyes had rolled so far back that he only could see its whites. And then her words died, and her lips mouthed in silence as she reached that otherworldly plane, a plane where nothing existed but blinding, mind-shattering pleasure. She had forgotten how to speak.

Sesshoumaru buried his face in the crook of her neck as he joined her. In that special edge where sanity and dreams collided, he wanted to forget too.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome to another update of Binded. That literal cliff-hanging part with Ichiro was one of the vivid scenes that stuck to my head while this story was still in its fluffy infancy...and I thought, hey if you were to write that, it would totally change the mood of the story. But I wanted to, so badly you know. The darkness was calling me! So I persevered and I finally got to reach that part, plus other future questionable scenes. Yay.
> 
> I find that Sesshoumaru has always been morally ambiguous, a kind of anti-hero, in the chaotic neutral alignment. Dude doesn't give a shit about anything until it interferes with himself, or someone he cares about. In the case of this fic, he has taken upon himself to make Kagome's interests HIS interests, so... I'm just saying I would be wary of him if I was her. XD
> 
> Anyway. I thought I give a little update about myself. So I just gave birth last weekend (yes I was preggos) and my baby came a month early. My water bag literally broke at 34 weeks while I was having lunch at a shopping mall, y'all. I had to have a c-sect because my baby was underweight and in breech position. She's still in the hospital while I'm recovering at home. And I just had a breakdown just now because I'm entering motherhood with my emotional baggage from childhood still unresolved. I just don't want it to affect my relationship with my child in the future. My god I need a counselor. T_T 
> 
> I think it's interesting that writing Binded saw me in various stages of my life, from breaking up an established relationship to jumping into a new one, getting married, and now having a baby. AND THIS FIC IS STILL UNCOMPLETED!
> 
> That's a lot of sharing for today. Thank you dear readers for reading thus far! <3


	21. A Creeping Sense of Cherophobia

_Men are not afraid of things, but of how they view them.  
 **-E** **pictetus**_

#  **A Creeping Sense of Cherophobia**

"More of these?" Kagome said.

Hana had retrieved the scriptures from the old archives, sending them to her by the trolley-load. The musty heap of scrolls on the desk unraveled to reveal rows of indecipherable _kanji_. To the untrained eye, they appeared like squiggles.

Kagome frowned and looked up. "Isn't it _your_ work to translate these scriptures?"

"Yes," Hana said, flipping back her hair. "But I’m being told you know how to read ancient calligraphy too. So I thought, why not share the workload?"

"This isn't sharing, you're practically dumping me everything."

Hana huffed angrily before turning to leave. "Look, you're never going to be promoted if you're constantly picky with your work. You can finish all of this within a day, if you stop procrastinating for once!"

"Hana!" Kagome called outside the door. She caught the priestess just before she slipped into a turn, a half-smile etched on her face. "Why don't you just die and crawl back to hell?"

Hana giggled. "Oh Kagome, we're already in hell." Then she disappeared, leaving behind her unhinged laughter.

 _“Just die and crawl back to hell?”_ Someone mimicked behind Kagome. It was Jyohaku, standing surreptitiously at the corridor. “Your rivalry is _ _intense."__

"I can't—"

"Freeze!" He quickly held up a hand before she could spew another retort. “Don’t move, and not another word from you.”

He guided a petrified Kagome back to her desk and settled her down. He took a deep breath. “Alright, now speak.”

"I can't stand that evil witch!" she burst. "Her wickedness is on a whole new level, surpassing even yours. And—and— I’m not done yet— I _know_ she has been talking ill of me. I heard her the other day in your office." Her nose flared at the mess waiting for her. "She just hates to see me succeed."

Jyohaku leaned against the desk, his arms folded in contemplation. "Well, whatever she says won't cloud my judgement of you. I'm the only person who knows you truly well here. So if I say you're stupid, it means you're really stupid."

Kagome rolled her eyes. "So you're not on her side? I thought you would have succumbed to her charms at this point."

He chuckled. "Do I look like an easy man to please? Besides, she’s not even that pretty..."

She made a mock attempt to hit him, then retracted herself. "Well, what do _I_ know? I've been trying to figure that out for all the time that I’ve been here. What exactly makes you tick. I call it the Mystery of Yukino-jingu."

Jyohaku almost smacked her head. "And is that how you behave towards the person responsible for your appraisal? You're incorrigible, Higurashi."

"Unreasonable," Kagome countered.

"Head-in-the-clouds."

"Stick-in-the-mud!"

"Diligent."

In an instant Kagome's face went aflame, prompting a laugh from Jyohaku. "Hah, I knew it. You couldn't take it if I ever complimented you."

"And you... You're occasionally kind." She smiled and took her magnifying glass to study the texts.

"Occasionally kind, eh. I take that."

Jyohaku then glanced disinterestedly at the scriptures. They were from a historical collection of a priest's observations on the practice of _sokushinbutsu,_ or self-mummification. Translating them required a long, deliberate process. In a painstaking but dainty handwriting, Kagome wrote down her translations in Modern Japanese on parchment paper.

“How did you learn to read ancient Japanese?” he once asked her, knowing she had not received formal training. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe me even if I’d told you,” she'd answered in the most cheekiest manner possible.

Jyohaku himself had been roaming around the shrine grounds aimlessly that day. His desk was left untouched and he would make himself disappear at the sight of a visitor. He gave no orders, nor spoke to anyone. A button rested somewhere in his head, and he had switched it off.

It was during one of his meanderings when he had stumbled into Kagome and Hana arguing. He hadn't intervened until Kagome flared. It was always entertaining to see his apprentice riled up in that manner.

"This sentence is a bit muddy," Kagome suddenly said, pointing to a line in the scripture. "Can you try to decipher what it says?"

"Where?" He fumbled with his glasses from his pocket, then traced his finger along the sentence. "Oh. It says here... _'Mark your calendar two months from today. Because someone is finally going to be a fully-anointed priestess.' "_

“What?”

Jyohaku frowned as he removed his glasses. "Oh come on. Or do I have to say your name too?"

His words finally sunk in. Kagome stood up, shaking in pure disbelief. "Wait, are you... Are you trying to tell me..."

"It's not official yet, so keep it under wraps. So when I _do_ inform you officially, you have to act like you're hearing it for the first time, understand?"

"Oh my god!" Kagome cupped her face before she could burst in tears. Shock, disbelief, and then a profound sense of joy swelled within her—she had to grip her chair to keep her balance. This was it, the number one milestone in her life. No more a mere shrine maiden in Yukino-jingu, but an actual ranked priestess. Finally, finally!

"Congratulations, Higurashi," Jyohaku said, smiling. "Do well in your new role, and you can even progress to higher places."

She gave him a smothering hug. "Thank you Inari-okami! I must be hallucinating right now! For _years_ , I waited for this! My life-long dream!"

"Alright, stop being a drama queen." 

And yet Jyohaku admitted feeling relieved—Kagome was back to her spirited, jovial ways. That light he admired in her eyes had faded as of late, and it was relieving to see that whatever dark cloud hanging over her had passed. Then again he never knew exactly what was in her head most of the time.

"Anyway, how are you?" he asked, clearing his throat for a gentler, casual tone. "I just realized we hadn't had a one-on-one for quite some time. Everything alright on your end?"

It felt like he had pulled her from cloud nine back to the ground. Kagome hesitated. "Yeah, everything's real good."

"Really? I'm only concerned with what hounds my dear apprentices. Oh wait, you're not my apprentice anymore."

She gave him a pensive smile and stared blankly at the scriptures on the table. _Sokushinbutsu_ was such a dark subject; it was in essence, assisted ritual suicide no matter how they tried to glorify it.

"Jyohaku-sama," she said. "Do you know that feeling when you're wary of being too happy? Like there's something hovering over you, something bad that's going to come out of it."

He carefully watched her face. "Sounds like cherophobia to me."

"Cherophobia?"

There was a sudden piercing scream outside the shrine. It faded sharply in the distance, faltering like a prey being dragged into a hole. Jyohaku and Kagome went stock-still. Seconds later, someone came barging into the room.

"Jyohaku-sama! Something’s happened!" Amari's face was pale, her voice terror-stricken.

Jyohaku strode forward. "Kirihata, what on earth was that?"

"It's Hana-sama!" Amari was shaking with tears. "She fell down by the _torii_ gate!"

Kouhei was already at her side when they rushed over. Hana's body lay at the bottom of the stairs, crumpled in a foetal position, her hair awry around her face. She breathed shallowly like a dying animal, her eyes stark wide.

Jyohaku dashed down the long cobbled steps. "What in seven hells—how did this happen? Kouhei, have you called the ambulance?"

"Yes, I have. Nobody saw what happened—we just heard the scream outside, and Amari and I discovered her like this."

"Alright, nobody move her. She might be broken in a few places." Jyohaku knelt close to Hana. "Hana, can you hear us? Can you speak?"

"Gosh, I don't know what's happening," Amari wept behind Kagome's shoulder. "There was nobody outside. She just _fell_."

Kagome stood still away from the men. She stared down at Hana's body. She looked so small and vulnerable, sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, all her viciousness lost.

A sudden gust of wind came blowing up from the stairs, rustling through the trees and scattering the dead leaves. It was a cold wind, one that reached and chilled deep into her bones. Her own voice came howling back into her ears.

_"...what I would do to make her trip and roll down the stairs!"_

Kagome backed a step away. In just one day, two of her wishes had been granted.

* * *

"...about your great news?"

She lifted her head. The static roar at the back of her mind slowly dissipated. Suddenly she was at her family home, eating with Mama and Souta at the dining table. Sesshoumaru was beside her.

They were looking at her with smiling, expectant faces.

She tried to arrange her thoughts, but it felt like she had just awakened from being submerged in a tub of ice.

"...What?" Kagome said, looking at her family in confusion, then at Sesshoumaru.

"Your ordainment ceremony," Sesshoumaru whispered. It had been his voice she heard when she was plucked out from her reverie.

"Oh." Of course, that's what he meant by the good news.

Kagome beamed at her family. "Yes, guess what? I'm graduating from my apprenticeship, Mama. I'm finally poised to be a priestess at the Yukino Shrine."

"Oh thank the gods!" Mrs Higurashi stood up, clapping with joy. "Your years of hard work finally paid off!"

"Congratulations, sis!" Souta exclaimed. “You’re making us real proud!” They began to sing praises for her. Told her they knew she could do it. Kagome embraced them warmly.

Mama and Souta were brimming with so much happiness for her. A while later Kagome carried her smile back into the car, where it faded slightly. 

A heavy, aching sensation grew in her chest as they drove past the roads back home. She couldn't stop soothing herself. Her breaths would drag so low to the point they stifled her. A sort of dizziness slowly enveloped her, and her body would get warm, breaking her in a cold sweat. She felt sick and disorientated. The symptoms started two months ago, right around that time when Hana had that freak accident.

The doctors at the hospital said her spine was dislocated from the impact. It was likely she would never walk again. Until now, nobody knew how it happened. Hana would not speak of it. 

Kagome and Jyohaku had viewed the CCTV footage from the shrine entrance. She shuddered as she watched. Hana was seen edging towards the stairs alone, staring at the bottom, as though someone unseen was beckoning her. There she simply tipped over and fell, taking a near-death treacherous trip. 

A turbulent sequence of events transpired soon after one another. Sesshoumaru abruptly expressed interest in buying a new house.

"Oh, there is nothing wrong with the house," he said, sipping a cup of coffee that morning. "But it belongs to the shrine. And I do not see why we should pay rent when we can afford our own house."

"Oh, we can afford our own house now?" Kagome paused in surprise. "But you're seldom at work nowadays. You spend a lot of time on your laptop."

"I've acquired a new interest. Stock-trading."

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"No, Kagome," he said, looking at her in the eye. "Did you honestly think I bought the car with remunerations from my modelling stints?"

They had spent some weeks looking at new homes in the heart of town. Luxurious houses she would never even dream of stepping inside. But he kept assuring her not to worry and to take her pick. So she picked one.

Then, her upcoming ordainment ceremony. Kagome was bobbing helplessly in a large ocean, tumbling with the current. She was gasping for air, struggling to stay afloat as the waves crashed around her, her body flinging here and there as the gods liked.

And amidst everything was Hana's scream, languishing in its blood-curdling descent, never really leaving her, haunting her sleeping dreams.

_Why don't you just die and crawl back to hell?_

_Oh Kagome, we're already in hell._

“Everything is great, no?" Sesshoumaru suddenly spoke. Kagome turned. He was smiling in his driver's seat, a Patek Philippe watch glittering on his wrist. Their silver Lexus cruised smoothly through the highway as the sun dipped into the darkening horizon up ahead. 

_Where are we?_ she wanted to ask him. _How did we get here?_

"Everything is going well just like you wanted, Kagome."

Turning to the window, Kagome watched the whizzing roads pass by with a dispirited eye.

"Yes," she said.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Hi, hi it’s Lucy here. The reason why I’m whispering is because my newborn is asleep, which means I have a little time for myself. Hehehe. Gee, I really hope I get this fic done asap before she grows up and takes up all my time. 
> 
> Meanwhile this story is slowing climbing up its incline...


	22. Ordainment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some lemon in this chapter, do not read if you're at work! *winks*  
> Also, useless trivia #64: Sesshoumaru stopped calling Kagome "miko" after her ordainment was announced.

#  **Ordainment**

**The Saika Ikki or Saiga Ikki (** **雑賀一揆** **), based in Ōta in the Kii Province (now part of Wakayama Prefecture) of Honshū, were one of many ikkō-ikki mercenary groups in feudal Japan led by Suzuki Magoichi, better known as Saika Magoichi. Their unnamed men and women informants were said to have been called "Magoichi" by their clients. In particular, the members of the Saika Ikki, along with the monks of the Negoro-ji, were renowned for their expertise with the arquebus and for their expert gunsmiths and foundries.' (Wikipedia contributors. "Saika Ikki." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 8 Mar. 2020. Web. 20 Mar. 2020.)**

_Magoichi, leader of the Saika Ikki, snarled._

_“There, northwest towards the swamps! Gather in your formations! Spot its shimmering coat!”_

_The foot soldiers assembled in a long row side-by-side, their deadly long arquebuses peeking from their lacquered shields. They pressed on their triggers, their magic-infused gunpowder exploding._

_It sounded like fireworks going off in Sesshoumaru’s ears, and then felt like fireworks in his hind legs._

_His chest wound had been leaking copious amounts of blood from his previous injuries, his weakening body stumbling through the thick foliage, unable to maintain his form any longer. His vision was getting cloudy at the edges._

_‘You must not lose consciousness, you must not—’_

_His thoughts escaped with the wind. His canine form devolved, shrinking into his anthropomorphic self. His legs died first, and he collapsed head-first into the mud._

_Eons passed. A pair of boots treaded into the murky swamp with a slow, purposeful gait. They stopped beside his head._

_Sesshoumaru was only slightly aware, a hazy trepidation swirling at the back of his mind. Magoichi pulled him by his hair._

_“Where is she?” he demanded, his breath hot on his skin. His voice rose when he was met with silence. “Where did you take my wife?”_

_He released Sesshoumaru and his head dropped back into the mud. Magoichi unslung his arquebus from his shoulder. His gun had been specially blessed by a powerful yamabushi, or an ascetic hermit from the mountains. He directed his muzzle at the daiyoukai's face._

_“Listen, demon,” he said quietly. “I’m this close to blowing your brains out. You filthy pack of monsters, scrounging on our holy land._

_What did you do to Rin?”_

_Sesshoumaru blinked. He had dirt slowly seeping into his eyes. His irises were no longer of sharp, glimmering gold. They were now the dirty colour of mud._

_“In which order do you want to know?” he finally answered. His voice was clear and collected. Magoichi clicked on his safety clamp._

_“I saved her, by squeezing the life out of her body. To remember her, I feasted on her heart. And then to honour her, I built her a bridge and cast her in its stone.”_

_Magoichi stilled, as a hot flush of emotions arrested his face. His finger shook._

_“It is what she would have wanted.”_

_“You son of a devil—” Magoichi choked._

_And he pulled his trigger._

* * *

The fire lanterns burnt spiritedly in the night.

Kagome stood in the large courtyard inside the Yukino Shrine. An altar had been erected for her. Her stance, although upright and unwavering, was as stiff as the new layers of _seisō_ she had adorned specially for the ceremony. She bowed down in deference, her wooden _shaku_ clasped tightly at her abdomen.

The shrine committee sat in a large group by the side with a watchful gaze. The musical procession carried on, their solemn thudding of their drums echoing. Her workmates witnessed her with bated breaths. The head priest wiped his misty eyes.

And on the other side sat Kagome's family. Mrs Higurashi and her son had their hands held together in anticipation. Sitting beside them was Sesshoumaru, stoic as usual. 

He watched her profile intently as she bowed to the altar, his eyes slowly taking in her new form; a freshly-minted priestess.

Her _reiki_ burned brighter than ever that night, almost obscuring the lantern flames. Only he could see it.

And even though she was not supposed to, Kagome looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile.

Sesshoumaru nodded in acknowledgement.

* * *

"It's such a shame we couldn't bring the phonograph," Kagome lamented, as she carried the boxes containing her clothes into their bedroom. Their new bedroom.

The Western-style bungalow overlooked a scenic stretch of the Arakawa River. Now that their renovations were done, they could finally enter their new house without worrying of tripping over buckets of cement and knocking into hanging electrical wires.

She twirled around her living room, dancing in her dream home.

"We can always buy a new phonograph," Sesshoumaru said, helping her with the boxes.

"I guess. But the way the old one reverberates through the wooden floors probably won't be the same, would it?"

She walked into the kitchen, running her hands along the smooth marble countertop. She eyed her new shiny stove hungrily.

"I love what they did to the kitchen. I can't wait to start cooking."

Perching her hands on her hips, she began to imagine the wonders. Sesshoumaru came in after a while. His eyes briefly flicked to the windows by the sink, where they showcased a quiet view of the Arakawa flowing outside.

He caught her small waist from behind. Then he nuzzled her neck, hinting her of his thoughts. Kagome squirmed coquettishly against him.

"Should we perform a purification ritual in this spot?" his low voice murmured in her ear.

"Sesshoumaru, you're so _bad."_ She whimpered when his hand snaked under her sundress, grasping a bra-cladded breast.

"Don't act coy. You've been looking at empty corners and fantasizing since we arrived."

He turned her around and propped her onto the kitchen counter. Kagome bit back a little moan when his hand slowly smoothed its way down her.

"We should go to Europe for a holiday," she said, trying to focus on the ceiling, her voice getting tight in her throat. "We could fly off to Spain. Then take a train further up to France, maybe even Switzerland."

"Europe?" Sesshoumaru caressed her thigh slowly down to her calf, ankle and lastly the sensitive sole of her foot. Then his fingers rose to continue the journey backwards, until they stroked against her underwear. "Like one of your new year resolutions?"

She jerked from his touch. She was already damp, and his sly smile told her he already knew that.

"How did you know about my resolutions?"

"I accidentally read your old diary. It was a long time ago." He teased her more boldly now, massaging her through the sodden cloth.

Kagome clenched her jaw. "How _dare_ you."

"What else did you write?" Sesshoumaru knelt down and spread her thighs to meet the heated apex nestled in between. He leaned forward to catch her arousing scent, burying his nose in. "Something about losing weight and getting a boyfriend."

A laugh shivered from her. "Well, I can strike those two out now. I got the weight I wanted."

"And a boyfriend?" Sesshoumaru peered up at her before pulling down her underwear swiftly. "So you have a boyfriend now, Kagome?"

Her heavy-lidded eyes met the ambiguous look in his gaze. She couldn't decide if he was serious. "Aren't you?"

"I'm insulted," he remarked quietly, kissing her flesh inches from where she wept, "that you would call me as such. The term drips with much frivolity."

Kagome watched him, her fingers entangled in his silken hair. When his hot mouth finally caught her where she wanted him, she expelled out a throaty cry.

"Then what are you?"

"Your soulmate.” As though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We could be anywhere, with anyone else, but our fates will always wind us back to each other."

She wondered how he did it. His lips and tongue were busy working up a spell—or was it a curse?—but he could still speak his thoughts so concisely.

"Silly," she tried to laugh. Oh it was hard to even speak—not when he was wreaking havoc on her nerves, devilry in her senses and she was rocking herself wantonly to his face—"Why would I want to be with anyone else?"

He rose to meet her face, and their lips found each other, locking themselves in a hungry kiss. She tasted herself, heard the sound of his trousers getting unzipped, felt his tip nudging around her waiting entrance.

"The day cuts off the promise of the night. You should be careful with the things you say, Kagome."

"No, I only want you." Her desperate legs wrapped around his hips as he moved in slow, shallow thrusts, driving her insane with need. “Sesshoumaru, _please_.”

"Then swear, Kagome. Swear upon your gods.”

She swore, and he rammed home without another word, knocking away all the breath in her lungs. He knew how and where it pleased her the most, and it relished him to spoil her mad with that knowledge. His pounding grew merciless, urged by her passionate cries for more. Before long their pleasure crested in a long, arduous pursuit, and when it reached that delicate pinnacle, the tight knot in their loins finally relented.

Kagome’s _reiki_ flooded across the kitchen upon her release. Sesshoumaru immediately withdrew, and she gushed out from where he had just left her, the floor wet, her thighs still writhing.

The kitchen was thus purified.

* * *

Amari and Kagome waited at the security post. A small company in the industrial areas had called them for a _harae_ appointment to bless their new premises. While Kagome was now authorized to lead her own rituals, she was also required to bring along an assistant. Amari had dutifully tagged her.

The security guard was missing, and they couldn't possibly enter the building without being granted clearance. The two ladies hung outside, waiting despondently.

"Should we call someone from the company to pick us up?" Amari suggested.

"Let's just wait for awhile," Kagome said.

Amari sat on the curb by the roadside.

"Kagome-sama. How does it feel, now that you're an actual priestess?" She opened the subject. "You can do a lot of things now and you have tons of new responsibilities."

"Oh, I'm loving it so far," Kagome smiled. "Having an added sense of responsibility is what drives me."

Amari pouted. "Why? Is it not enough being a simple _miko?"_

Kagome sat down with her by the road, ignoring how improper they looked.

"A _miko_ now is not the same as a _miko_ hundreds of years ago. In the olden days we were like shamans, able to communicate with the gods, and we were revered by the people. Now a shrine maiden's role is only menial. I want to be more than that. Because I know I have the potential to be better."

Amari looked at her friend. Kagome had changed ever since the ceremony. She had always been a hard worker who strived hard, but now she seemed to hold her head even higher, and constantly looking for more areas to succeed in. She felt small sitting beside her.

"How about being a shrine head? Have you ever wondered what it's like to be in the priest’s shoes?"

Kagome contemplated, as she watched a pair of singing larks twirl in the sky. 

"I guess that's a whole new ball game. Managing the shrine is one thing, dealing with the shrine committee is another. From what I heard, they aren't the most agreeable of people." She shrugged. "But you know how it's like in Yukino-jingu, being a family shrine..."

And they both said together: "You have to get married into it!"

The two ladies laughed. "Ah, do you remember the good old days when Hana-sama tried to do just that?" Amari reminisced.

Kagome played with the pleats on her culottes. She didn't really want to talk about Hana.

"You know Kouhei and I visited her at the rehabilitation centre some time ago," Amari continued. "I didn't know she was the main breadwinner for her family. Her lone mother has to support her four siblings now, and they're all still in school."

"That's really unfortunate to hear," Kagome said tersely. "By the way, Amari. I haven't been to the Family Mart near my old house since I moved. How's your brother doing?"

"Oh, he didn't tell you?” she went in surprise. “He got transferred to another store in a different town months ago. He doesn't live around that area anymore."

"Oh," Kagome said. _"Oh."_

Amari glanced down at her lap with a pensive expression. "I don't know what happened to him. He only told me _after_ he left. I'm still mad at him for missing my birthday party. He didn't show up even though he promised, and he never called to apologise. I haven't talked to him for a long while."

Kagome looked away, a misplaced sense of guilt harbouring inside her. She remembered their last meeting wasn't the most civil.

"If you do see him, tell me if he's alright," she said. "That's all I need to know."

Amari sighed. "My brother has always been the odd one in the family, always isolating himself. I thought meeting a girl would change him at least."

The security guard suddenly appeared behind them. He bowed in apology countless times before allowing them to pass. Kagome glanced at Amari beside her. "Well, are you ready, Amari?"

Amari looked at the building before her and took a deep breath.

"Let's go."

* * *

Tetsuo Morikawa, manager to one of the oldest talent agencies in Tokyo, and to Sesshoumaru, gawked down at his plate.

"This is hands-down, the greatest home-cooked meal I've ever eaten. What is in this chicken?"

"Coq Au Vin, one of the most popular French dishes," Sesshoumaru answered, cutting a piece of his own meat. "Formerly a poor man's food, it literally means, "rooster in wine." "

"You're kidding me. I've only been to two or three French restaurants, but this is something else. You cook even better than Eri."

"There's a nearby international market catered for the large foreign community here. I just took a random pick from the map," Sesshoumaru replied. "And your wife would be offended if she heard what you said."

"But it's the truth. She's only good for spending my money. Do you know that she holds three credit cards under my name?"

Morikawa then eyed the expansive high ceiling above him of which a crystal chandelier hung, before turning around to observe the living room again, slack-jawed. Even before he entered, he had been staggered right outside the gate.

That pair of _komainu_ statues that greeted him. Their stone-cast eyes were glaring at him in cold menace.

And why were these lion-dogs guarding his house anyway? He knew Sesshoumaru’s partner was a priestess, but they didn't _live_ in a shrine. They weren't in Okinawa either, where these statues were aplenty.

He remembered that seed of envy being planted inside him as Sesshoumaru invited him in. He was blatantly conscious of himself as he walked through the house. Morikawa was wide-eyed, gaping like a kid in a zoo. An art enthusiast he was not, but he knew an expensive painting when he saw one.

How was he able to afford all of this? How did Sesshoumaru amass all this wealth in such a short while?

And here he was, having dinner with his subordinate in his house and the man had cooked a meal that even he couldn't deny was sinfully good.

Morikawa gripped his cutlery.

"You know, Longines just approached our agency,” he started. “They're launching their new Masterclass collection, and they need someone for the commercial shoot—"

"Ah, which reminds me," Sesshoumaru said suddenly. "There's a reason why I invited you for dinner today."

Sesshoumaru got up from his seat and left the dining area. Before Morikawa could wonder, he promptly returned. A white envelope was placed beside his plate.

Morikawa stared blankly at it.

Sesshoumaru continued to tuck into his meal, his fork slipping a piece of the wine-infused meat into his lips. "I'm tendering," he announced.

Morikawa's rage came slowly, creeping like tendrils around his reddening face. This was it. He had been on edge since he came here. The hat had finally been dropped.

"You have to be out of your mind, Sesshoumaru," he blew under his breath. "You're already lined up for a few projects. There's a hefty penalty fee to be incurred—"

"I'll write you a blank cheque if that solves anything," Sesshoumaru said whilst still eating, calm as ever.

"You're bloody serious, aren't you? Remember how hard you fought to be where you are right now, sitting here! I was the one who discovered you, and _made_ you."

"You humour me. I never wished to be a top model. This was _your_ fight to save your crumbling agency." Sesshoumaru wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Also, I'm upset to say the least that you would think my sitting here is due to your benevolence. A rather conceited way of thinking, don't you agree?"

Morikawa dragged himself out from the chair, his body swaying in his unbridled anger, spittle spraying from his mouth. "You ingrate!"

"Did my rooster intoxicate you already? Steady, Mr Morikawa. You're a guest here."

"You forget your old bearings!" he further bellowed, rocking on his heels. "You were just a drifting nobody, a nameless immigrant in this country! _I_ gave you a name. _I_ gave you a job. And this is how you repay me?"

His hand suddenly slammed onto the table. It left a damp, sweaty handprint on the cherry wood. He pointed a shaking pink finger towards Sesshoumaru.

"Listen, I have connections to the Yakuza. I can easily make your life hell here. You'll never step out of your house. Not just you. Even your woman won’t be spared."

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you would, wouldn't you?" 

He stood up to clear the plates. "And with that, I declare that dinner is suspended. I suppose you're not staying for desserts."

Morikawa spewed a curse-word, to which Sesshoumaru merely shrugged. "It's such a pity. I made pear tarte tatin. We have a beautiful European pear tree growing in our garden."

His face red and seething, Morikawa strode his way out of the door. He collided into Kagome at the entrance.

"Ah, Mr Morikawa!" she greeted him cheerfully. "Finally we meet! Sesshoumaru did say you were coming over."

"Better lock your doors before you sleep," he warned. Then he stumbled out of the gate.

Kagome stepped slowly into the kitchen, flabbergasted.

"What on earth was that?"

"He always misbehaves when he gets drunk," Sesshoumaru replied matter-of-factly, washing the dishes at the sink. He glanced at Kagome who had just reached home from work.

"Speaking of which—do you like pears, Kagome?"

* * *

Eri punched '15' on the lift buttons. She lived in a condominium with her husband who was twice her age. And she was starting to regret her fast lifestyle. Even all the money in the world couldn't satisfy her. What’s the point? Her boyfriend had just left her for a club hostess.

She exited the lift quickly only to knock into a man who was entering. He didn't look like anyone she knew from the 15th floor. But she shrugged it off and walked to her apartment door.

She saw her husband's shoes at the entrance. "Honey, are you home already?" she called. It was 3 in the morning. Of course he had to be home. The lights were all out in the house. She headed straight for the bedroom. "Honey, one of your cards just got defaulted—"

Her voice stilled. Her husband was hanging from the ceiling, his limp body swaying heavily from its weight.

Eri screamed. She didn't have to see his face to know he was dead.

_To be continued…_


	23. Hound Dog

#  **Hound Dog**

Jyohaku slowed down his pace. He could feel sweat pooling down his back, his socks damp. He stopped completely on the pathway, bending over to catch his breath, and spied a glance at his watch. He had covered five kilometres in forty mins. Only five kilometres and he already felt like busting a lung.

He smiled wryly to himself.

 _You’re really a long way behind Onizuka the Terrible_ , he told himself. He straightened himself with a crack, and brushed back his unruly hair. He pulled out his headphones from his ears—he had been listening to an Elvis Presley album which was his mother’s music, and therefore good music—and took his water bottle that he had strapped to himself.

His sweaty hand slipped, and the bottle bounced on the ground, rolling into the grass.

“Oh come on,” he said in disbelief. He found himself pursuing his runaway bottle, like a kid who had kicked his ball too hard on the road. Not only that, it was winning too, crossing into an adjacent path in the park until it slowed down near a man’s feet.

The man picked it up. Jyohaku caught up to him, huffing.

“Yours?” the person asked. The yellow lamplight cut a hazy picture of his face, but Jyohaku recognized him immediately.

“Wait, I know you. You’re… You’re Higurashi’s boyfriend.”

Sesshoumaru curled his lip in a subtle display of revolt. He had a pure distaste for the word.

“No, not that. Such dysfunctional relationships should be left for the frivolous.”

“The frivolous, eh. Strange way of thinking."

“So,” Sesshoumaru said, “A priest you are now. Truthfully I’ve never seen one run for sport before. What is that saying—health is wealth?”

Jyohaku wasn't sure if it was the low chatter of the evening wind against the rustling trees, but the man was quietly laughing.

“What’s so funny, pray tell?”

“Tell me,” Sesshoumaru continued, “How does it feel to devote unconditionally to the gods—the same gods that subjected a pathetic soul in a never-ending, painful cycle of rebirth? How close are you towards enlightenment? Would you ever break free?”

Jyohaku held back his tongue, choosing to thread his words carefully. “I’m a Shinto priest. I don’t believe in the concept of rebirth.”

“And yet like everyone else, you’re a by-product of it.”

“My life will not be shaped by my past deeds. I am who I am.”

Sesshoumaru exerted a plaintive sigh. “How blissful it is, to be so unaware. I suppose it is the only reason you can sleep at night.”

Jyohaku stared hard at his bottle still in Sesshoumaru’s hand. “Look, can I have my bottle already?” he demanded. 

_Lunatic. What a raving lunatic._ He couldn’t put a finger to it, but there was a subtle sense of déjà vu in the way he uneased him.

“Of course,” Sesshoumaru said.

Jyohaku retrieved his bottle, feeling unsettled as he uncapped it. He turned to take a hearty swig. His drink was an invigorating relief, more delicious than he remembered, cooling his parched throat and chest like blessed rain during a long drought.

Afterwards he almost choked on himself. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, his eyes darting around. Sesshoumaru was gone, disappeared in the night. He might as well have never been there.

The evening wind came again. Jyohaku rubbed the rise of goosebumps on his arms. He strapped his bottle back, and replaced his headphones on his ears. Then he continued to run, all the while listening to Elvis as he sang to “Hound Dog”.

* * *

“Pears!” Amari exclaimed the next morning. "Where did you get a load of these pears, Kagome-sama?"

"And they smell so good too," Kouhei said, sniffing one appreciatively.

Kagome had gone to work, dumping a box on the table to distribute. She twisted her mouth. The reason behind her generosity wasn't really as well-meaning as she wished.

"We have a large pear tree in our garden. The fruits rot very fast once they hit the ground," she explained. "Sesshoumaru has been making pear-everything. Pear pastries, pear salads, pear jams. Even onigiri with pickled pear. You name it, he's done it." She shook her box, of which a few of them remained and rolled all over. "God, I'll throw up if I see another of these."

“Is everyone here?” Jyohaku suddenly strode into the room. He was armed with a few files, looking more bristly than usual. An aura of seriousness fell over everyone, and they quickly settled in their seats, poised for the sudden meeting he had arranged. 

The priest took a deep breath as he glossed over the files, fetching his glasses at the same time. “As you all know I had a meeting with the shrine committee last week,” he started, “due to the dwindling donations the shrine has received over the last six months. Naturally the committee has taken it to be my responsibility to settle this problem, but it occurred to me that I have a few heads sitting at this table—”

 _Who conducts a meeting first thing on a Monday morning?_ Kagome carelessly wondered. Her attention was drawn to her box of pears again, and she covered her mouth as it kicked her gag reflex.

“...Higurashi?”

She looked up in surprise to see Jyohaku and her mates peering expectantly at her. It sounded like Jyohaku had just finished asking a question. A question that flew right over her head.

 _Great,_ she thought _. Your mind went ‘whoosh’ again. Right in the middle of an important meeting. Well good luck trying to decipher what he just said._

Kagome cleared her throat. “About the donations… It’s because of the decreasing number of visitors we’ve been having…”

“That’s what I just said. So as a _priestess_ , do you have anything that you could share, that you think can help the shrine regain our visitors?”

 _Hoo boy_ , Kagome thought, perspiring slightly under her robe as Jyohaku slowly pursued towards her. Amari stifled a little sneeze as he passed behind her.

_Poor Amari, always getting the sniffles around the priest. I thought she was only allergic to cats?_

She gave him a crooked smile as he reached her. His eyebrows raised in question. “Well?” 

_Wait, Jyohaku keeps cats, doesn’t he? Like, thirteen of them the last time I checked. That’s really a lot._

“How about a cat attraction?” Kagome suddenly suggested. Jyohaku’s face twitched in surprise. “You know, instead of hoarding your cats in your house where nobody ever sees them, why not keep them in the shrine? People love cats. They’ll come just to see them.”

“Ohoho!” Kouhei shot up in his seat. “That’s a fantastic idea! And you know what, maybe we could have a sort of game where visitors try to find all the cats in the shrine! They could take photos of each cat!”

“Omigod, yes!” Kagome said, jumping in her seat. “And since the shrine is so big, it’s really going to be a challenge! We can call it the Yukino Cat Challenge! _Kyaaaa!~”_

Amari looked at her friends, stumped. They were dishing out exciting ideas across the table while she sat there quietly with none of her own. For a moment she felt embarrassed to be sitting there. Why couldn’t she be as bright as her peers?

Jyohaku slumped into his seat as he soothed his temples. A cat attraction? This was not the answer he had expected from a priestess. Then again, said priestess was Kagome.

He looked up sharply. “What if someone _cheats_ during the challenge? They could jolly well use old photos of the cats just to win.”

“Um, excuse me,” Amari voiced out meekly, raising her hand. “Maybe we could, you know, pass them a date placard before they start. That way they could pose with the placards as proof. ”

“That’s awesome, Amari!” Kouhei gushed. “Such a simple and efficient solution!”

“I don’t know, feels a bit tacky to me,” Jyohaku replied.

“I can already imagine this plan going to fruition. Yukino-jingu will rise to become a top tourist spot. Jyohaku-sama, you must make it work!” Kagome urged.

“All ideas are subject to the committee’s approval. Does anyone have anything _else_ to share, in case this gets rejected?”

_“No!"_

“So we’re just going in headstrong with this one?”

_“Yes!"  
_

“Kirihata, aren’t you allergic to cats?”

“It’s alright, I can wear a mask during work. All for the sake of the shrine.”

Jyohaku sighed and rubbed his face. He wished himself good luck trying to convince the committee for this one. “Alright fine,” he said nonetheless. 

They cheered. It was a good start for the day, with everyone in high spirits. Smiling, Kagome took away her box of pears, proceeding to leave. 

“I have been meaning to ask,” Jyohaku voiced, “but what is in that box?”

“Oh,” she said, turning back. “Do you happen to like pears? Specifically, the European kind. They’re softer and juicier.”

He weighed one judiciously in his hand. “The last time I had these was when I was still living in Tohoku.” That, along with rice crackers had been his favourite snacks when he was a child.

“Great! You can take this lot with you then," Kagome exclaimed, pushing the box to him.

Good riddance, she then thought, dusting her hands off. Her mission to do away with those pears was accomplished. Of course it was not completely over. This was just this week's harvest.

“Wait, I’m not done with you yet,” he called out, frowning. “Don’t you feel that you still owe me something?”

“What?” she went, exasperated. “I already answered your question during the meeting, didn’t I?”

“Right after your promotion. You’re supposed to treat me for a drink.”

“I remembered saying no such thing!”

Amari and Kouhei quickly slithered out of the room unnoticed, not wanting to be caught in between another squabble.

“Kagome-sama must be on a whole new level, for the priest to exclusively ask her out for a drink,” Kouhei commented.

“We’re totally out of her league now,” Amari sighed. “And gee, you didn’t have used the word “exclusively.””

_“Exclusively.”_

* * *

A cobalt-blue Jaguar skimmed by the road curbs alongside where Kagome was walking after work. It slowed down to match her pace, a tinted window lowering.

"Hello," Sesshoumaru said from inside.

"Alright," Kagome said, closing the door after her and pulling in her seatbelt. She inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of new leather.

"Where's the old car?"

"It's resting at home," Sesshoumaru said, and continued his drive. He smoothed his hand against his steering wheel. "I always wanted to have a feel of a continental car."

"One does not buy a Jaguar for that reason alone. Really Sesshoumaru. You should stop spending so much money."

"Rest assured. There's not a single dent in my pocket you can find," he mused. "What were you doing out in the streets? You were roaming quite lifelessly."

"Just trying to take a breath of fresh air," Kagome told him. "How about you? You didn't tell me you were back in Japan. Hence me, roaming around the streets quite lifelessly."

She observed the sleek high-tech dashboard. Already a few pieces had adorned its top, a series of small, intricate metallic sculptures—a replica of the Eiffel Tower, a horse in mid-gallop among other things. There was a soldier mounted on it. _Napoleon Bonaparte_ , she could hear Sesshoumaru's voice whisper in her head.

"You know, you haven't exactly told me what's there at Cayman Islands." 

She remembered the note he had left two days ago on the fridge. _'Going on a work trip to Cayman Islands',_ it said. _'Please finish the pear pudding in the fridge.'_

"I was visiting a banker friend. Do you know you can go swimming with stingrays there?"

"That sounds almost lovely, but I'm not sure if I want to. So what are you now, Sesshoumaru?"

"Just a humble philanthropist," he answered with a not-so-humble smirk. "I've always been an investor in a sense. Now I am sowing monetary funds for a humanitarian cause."

 _"A humanitarian cause?_ And what benefits exactly are we reaping?" Should she even be surprised by him anymore?

"One that can change the world."

"Does it have anything to do with your dreams of world dominance?"

"Oh, so you _do_ remember. I'm impressed."

She rested her head by the window. "You've gone so far ahead."

"You too, Kagome. You've gone very far," he said. "Just a little more."

"There's more?"

"I just want you to close your eyes and imagine."

Her fine eyebrows knitted slightly. She imagined the cats playing on the rafters of the shrine, the visitors pouring in, the hike in their donations. She imagined the committee giving credit for her ideas. And her many other ideas in the future. Surely in years to come, she’ll rise to be a senior priestess. She would be tasked to train all the new apprentices. 

But that’s where it stays. That’s where her role starts to become stagnant. Because in a place that runs a family succession system, there would be no more room for someone like her to grow further.

Would she really be appeased, just staying as a mere priestess, receiving orders until the very end?

“Rationally speaking, with our current circumstances, I’m better off moving to another shrine,” she concluded.

“But you don’t want to,” Sesshoumaru replied.

She shook her head. “I never want to. As much as I complain, I can’t imagine leaving Yukino-jingu. My heart is there.”

Kagome took a deep breath. She didn’t feel like talking about work anymore. The tall shadows of trees by the road dappled on her face as they passed by her. 

"It's seven o'clock," Sesshoumaru suddenly announced. He reached forward to the stereo set. "Time for the headlines."

She watched him in surprise as he switched on the FM radio, increasing its volume. The news was blaring now, filling the space in the car. Kagome shifted in her seat and looked out of the window. More trees. They seemed to get barren as they passed. Their long naked branches were akin to bony fingers, reaching out towards the grey, dullish sky.

The newscaster's voice evolved into a monotonous drone in her head.

"…with the situation here in Eastern Cape, South Africa worsening as the yet-unnamed terrorist group launches its first series of bombings in the region, just a few days prior to the UN General Assembly taking place…"

Out of nowhere, she felt a familiar heat rise up in her chest, squeezing her lungs just enough to stifle her breaths. Her heart pounded like a warning. _Oh gods_ , she cried, as a quiet wave of panic overcame her. _Not again..._

"...in local news, the Tokyo police has confirmed the identity of the suicide victim as Tetsuo Morikawa, who was rumoured to have hung himself in his house last Friday. Tetsuo Morikawa was a manager of SK Entertainment, one of the top talent agencies in Tokyo…"

Kagome pulled her head up, despite her drowsiness. The news couldn’t be referring to Mr Morikawa, could it? They just saw him last Friday. Sesshoumaru had cooked dinner and she had even exchanged a few words with him.

He couldn’t have gone home to suddenly kill himself. It didn’t make sense.

"Morikawa...threatened you as well, didn't he?" Sesshoumaru said.

She turned to him in shock. But his face was blasé, focused on the roads ahead. She tried to mouth something for a few words to reach him, but at that moment he seemed so far away.

"Morikawa was a good manager. A few shortcomings, but otherwise, good,” he said. “It's unfortunate things had to end this way.”

He switched off the radio. It was starting to drizzle outside. The droplets of rain streaked on the glass. Kagome sank deeper into the small corner by the window.

“By the way, I hope you finished the desserts in the fridge just as I asked you to, Kagome. Because pears,” Sesshoumaru emphasised with a smile, “pears will be good for you now.” 

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where there seems to be hints that Jyohaku may be a reincarnation. With all the subtle clues dispersed throughout the story, it should be quite obvious who it is. But hey, he is a man of himself, so don't judge!
> 
> Also, what are you planning, Sesshoumaru? People who have read the story beyond, don't spoil it in the reviews! XD


	24. Put Your Head On My Shoulder

A/N: _Ookami_ means wolf in Japanese.

#  **Put Your Head on My Shoulder**

As if someone had willed her to, Kagome snapped out of her dreams. She woke up to find herself alone in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart was threatening to burst from her ribcage.

Again the same nightmare. Again the clock glowed a green 03:15.

A deep forest of towering trees. The baleful howl of a bloodhound somewhere. She was running, her bare feet bleeding from thorns.

An oppressive sense of doom pursued her from behind. She could feel the fingers of a black, shifting mass creeping at the nape of her neck. And when it scraped her with its long talons she would scream, but the voice that tore from her throat wasn’t hers—it was Hana’s.

Shrill, piercing, visceral. The way she screamed when she tripped over the stairs.

_"Oh Kagome, we’re already in hell!"_

_Is this hell?_ Kagome contemplated in the dark, pawing at her shuddering face desperately. She was conscious now, she was not dreaming.

_What if I already died sometime ago and I’m just living through the motions?_

She fell back into bed, trying to gather her broken breaths. Her nostrils flared. There was a sweet aroma wafting softly into her room.

The fragrance of pears.

* * *

“Do you think it will get cold later?” she asked Sesshoumaru the next day, while sifting through her clothes in the wardrobe. She had showered after work, changed into a lilac-coloured dress, combed her hair. “Should I bring along a cardigan?”

A cashmere cardigan he had gifted her from one of his travels caught her eye. Was it from South America or South Africa? Kagome had lost count to the number of business trips he’d made. And yet she never probed about his work, although the fact that he was always being pulled to dangerous territories was concerning.

She glanced at Sesshoumaru sitting in bed, his gaze fixated on his laptop screen, fingers clicking away industriously.

“What are you so busy about, huh?” She tried to lean in to see what he was doing.

“No,” he asserted.

“No, as in don’t-look-at-my-work no, or no cardigan?”

“No cardigan.”

Kagome held on to it and gave an indignant sniff. “You know what. Maybe I’ll just bring it along.”

“It will work towards your favour if you don’t.”

“Ah, I hate it when you talk in circles.”

Nevertheless she placed it back into the wardrobe. She felt a little ripple in her blood, and turned to see Sesshoumaru standing behind her.

He leaned in to close the distance between their lips. In return she gave him a playful shove back to bed, still slightly miffed.

“Don’t miss me,” Kagome teased as she left him.

“Be safe,” Sesshoumaru called.

* * *

Jyohaku tilted his face before the mirror, the straight edge of his shaving knife angled on his foam-slathered jaw. He skimmed the sharp blade deftly against his skin, cutting through the five o'clock shadow.

Barely moving his lips, he sung a mirthless tune.

He was going out for a drink. He mentally sifted through his wardrobe. Something nice to wear, something that would look good...

There was a soft mew at his feet. He glanced down to see one of his cats weaving through his legs. Its tortoise-shell fur brushed warmly against him.

"Oh it's you, Shippo-chan." He returned his focus to the mirror. "Give me a moment, let me finish—"

A sudden sharp pain stabbed him in his upper abdomen. It was white-hot, a twist of an invisible knife wrenching him deep in the gut. His body bowed over the sink as he exerted a gasp, more in shock than in agony, his knife clattering to the floor. Blood dribbled from his face, painting crimson dots against the white porcelain.

The pain disappeared as fast as it had attacked. What was left was the cold sweat enveloping him. Jyohaku sank to his knees slowly, shuddering, a hand gripped on the sink bowl's edge.

Shippo stepped onto the blood-stained knife as he tottered towards his owner, his stubby legs leaving a trail of red paw-prints on the floor.

* * *

The chilly night breeze swept past her again. Kagome rubbed her arms with a tinge of regret. When she saw Jyohaku running across the road, she raised her arm and tapped on her watch.

"I had to feed my cats before coming here," he huffed. "All thirteen of them."

"Am I supposed to empathise with your lack of time management?"

They were familiar lines. "Look, if you're going to treat me for your promotion, you'll have to sound more sincere than that."

"I was forced to treat you,” she griped, as they walked along the path. “Therefore I'm not obliged to offer any sincerity."

"You could have just said no."

"I could have," Kagome agreed, hugging herself, "...but right now you're my closest semblance to reality."

Jyohaku laughed. "Not sure what I’m supposed to feel about that. Are you cold?”

He removed his coat and draped it on her shoulders. It looked terribly cumbersome on her.

She eased herself into it. "Who knows. Maybe your pessimistic nature turned out to be a redeeming feature after all."

They made their way in through the nondescript entrance of a speakeasy bar. It was moody but warmly-lit inside, designed in the classic, clandestine spirit speakeasies were known for. Paul Anka was softly crooning in the speakers overhead. Kagome noted the only patrons—a couple in their office attire smiling amid their hushed tones. Other than that it was just the owner, who wore a short ponytail. He looked relatively young, ranging somewhere in his thirties.

“Ookami, evening,” Jyohaku said.

“Evening.” The owner’s gaze bypassed him and observed Kagome with open interest, as she settled at the counter. “Is it the season for flowers?”

“I wouldn’t flirt with her if I were you,” Jyohaku warned.

“Oh, I know who she is.” He gave her a wolfish grin. “You’re a _miko_ from Yukino-jingu, am I right?”

Kagome blushed slightly. The owner must have paid them a visit and noticed her before. “Correction. I’m a priestess now.”

A complete look of surprise overcame him. He gave a curt bow. “I apologize. I’m honoured to serve under your patronage. You can call me Ookami. Narumi and I go way back during our university days...”

“Alright, introductions over," Jyohaku said with a dismissive wave. "Now think of a drink that best celebrates a promotion for our new priestess.”

Ookami scoffed. “Always the party pooper. Don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. As for you, the usual I suppose?”

They ordered a few plates of sushi and fried snacks. Jyohaku asked if she minded if he had a smoke, to which she said no.

Kagome found herself studying the interiors of the bar whilst waiting for her drink. Her surroundings intrigued her—from the tall, eclectic shelves of alcohol to the lone, leather Chesterfield sofa at the corner—before her eyes landed back to the man on her side. Slowly indulging on his cigarette, his usually stiff shoulders were relaxed and his expression untroubled. Jyohaku was evidently in his own element.

Even his appearance was refreshing for a change. He looked conventionally handsome in his blue chambray shirt, his hair combed back, the faint scent of cologne around him...but what was that band-aid on his jaw?

“Jyohaku-sama,” she said, pointing. “Your face.”

He fingered his jaw somberly. "I cut myself while shaving."

"Ouch. Is it going to leave a scar?"

"Probably."

She sipped on her drink when it was served to her. It was a grapefruit-colored cocktail with a stalk of rosemary for garnish. It tasted tarty and wonderful.

“I like this place,” she then told him.

“It certainly has its own charm, doesn’t it?” Jyohaku smiled. “I’ve been coming here since my wrestling days. Just don’t go babbling about it to your friends. The last thing this place needs is to be teeming with people.”

Kagome smirked. “Then why did you bring me here?”

He gave her a silent, surprised look. “Can I ask you a personal question?” she then said. “How do you move on with anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m referring to the way you left the ring for the shrine. Oh, and from what I heard, suffered a divorce shortly after, and now you hoard cats for a living—”

“Did you recently go through a break-up?” he interrupted. He remembered the repulsed look on Sesshoumaru when he had called him her boyfriend.

“I’m appalled! Why would you think of that?”

“Ah, the denial of the broken-hearted.”

He finished his cigarette and lit another, a look of contemplation clouding over his eyes. “I’m not sure how I managed,” he said, “but after a while you just learn...to kill a part of yourself.”

“Kill?”

“Eventually you’ll learn to stop thinking about yourself, to only do what’s right. Ignoring what the self needs, to the point that you don’t see yourself as a person anymore—as bleak as it sounds, that’s how I moved on.”

He tapped his stick on the ashtray. “Obviously my departure from wrestling was the biggest blow. The divorce was not my fault because _she_ cheated—”

 _I would cheat too with that attitude_ , Kagome thought.

"Anyway, enough of me. I suddenly remembered our old conversation about you feeling cherophobic. Are you still wary of being too happy?"

Kagome held her glass with both hands and nodded.

"Not only that. Sometimes I feel like things are happening too fast around me. I can't keep up, and I'm having panic attacks every now and then."

Jyohaku rubbed the band-aid on his jaw. "But haven't only good things been happening to you?"

"No, not all are good things," she revealed. "Despite everything, I'm still being haunted by nightmares of Hana."

 _"Hana?_ "

"I… I wished for her to fall down the stairs and die. She didn't _die,_ but she can't walk now." Her voice lowered to a shameful whisper. "To date, I still haven't visited her. I just can’t. You must think I'm a coward and a horrible person."

"No," he said. "I've had worse thoughts of her. She’s just that kind of person."

"I'm sorry. Gosh, you must think I’m silly now." She affected a laugh, which only made her wavering voice obvious.

"Higurashi, listen here," Jyohaku then said. "I want you to know that whatever happened to Hana...wasn't your fault."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, her finger quivering slightly. She didn’t dare to look at him.

He continued. "We all hated Hana. We all had bad thoughts of her. But no one was responsible for her accident. She tripped and fell, that was it. It was simply a stroke of misfortune. And we're all devastated by it, in our own way."

"I know, I want to believe it…"

"Then believe it. There's nothing else you can doubt."

He could be a brute at times, but Jyohaku was dead resolute in his assurance. It was the one thing she needed at that point: a strong post to tether her disarrayed thoughts to. His words unsealed something inside her. Before she knew it, it had erupted in her chest—and her catharsis came like an afternoon shower—she could feel the gentle rays of the sun on her back, as her deep anxieties and guilt washed away into the grass. A relief as much it crushed her; warm but wet, dripping down her face.

 _“My god,”_ she gasped through her sobs, covering her face, _“this is so mortifying— ”_

Jyohaku watched her. He hated crying women; in his experience they mostly brought conniving agendas. But he knew his subordinates well throughout the years, her foremost. Despite everything she was, Kagome Higurashi was genuine—a refreshing spring in a dessicated society caught up with appearances. And this bull-headed, ire-inducing little creature was pouring her heart out to him, in a bar of all places.

He offered his handkerchief in sympathy. “I never thought I would say this. But you look hideous when you cry.”

Kagome began to bawl.

After a few good minutes of what felt like an embarrassing eternity for the both of them, she finally composed herself and returned his handkerchief, sodden and all. A sheepish smile pulled across her puffy face.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you, Jyohaku-sama. And sorry you had to see me wail like a sad banshee.”

Jyohaku sighed and placed both his palms on the counter. "Look, it’s past working hours. I suppose we could drop the formalities outside. Get reacquainted, on a first-name basis. What do you think?"

She sniffed. "I suppose.”

“You can call me Narumi.”

Kagome glanced at his extended hand. _Narumi,_ she carefully tasted his name. It tasted salty, of her tears. _Na-ru-mi._

Then she clasped his hand and gave him a little shake. Jyohaku's eyebrows lifted as he broke into a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Kagome.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

She returned to finish her sushi.

“Wait, that’s all?” he went in surprise.

Kagome brushed him off. “I’ll call you by your first name when the time’s right.”

He groaned. “You never fail to be a disappointment.”

She laughed as she read her watch. It was still early. To think she was dreading the night out just a few hours ago. Who would believe she was now having a good time?

Another couple joined beside them, as the music overhead began playing numbers from a Billy Joel album. Kagome gave an inquiring look at Jyohaku's glass, then called for the owner.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having, please.”

* * *

 _I can’t believe she really got herself drunk,_ Jyohaku cursed under his breath later, as his Honda Vezel roared into a four-way intersection, white headlights spilled on the concrete. Kagome was strapped to her seat beside him, her head hanging limp like a ragdoll.

An Asahi Dry girl like her had no business trying Bulgarian vodka, he groused, something Ookami thought was amusing. It was a godsend that her house was a mere eight-minute drive away. The thought of having her throw up in his car was making him feel sick.

The car eventually pulled into her upscale neighbourhood, before crawling slowly to her compound. Jyohaku stopped before the _komainu_ -guarded gate, appraising the three-storey house through his window. He blew a whistle.

“Wake up, we’re right at your doorstep,” he informed, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Well, not literally your doorstep, but you know what I mean.”

Kagome continued to wiggle drowsily in her seat, her long hair spilling around her face. Jyohaku leaned forward to remove her seatbelt. She murmured something inaudible to him, then landed unceremoniously onto his chest. He froze like a block of ice.

Her heavy head snuggled itself on his shoulder, the heat of her body vivid against him. He felt at first a prick of annoyance. “Watch it,” he chided softly, “I’m not the one you want.”

 _“Narumi,”_ she breathed.

His blood rushed down from his head in a jarring instant. Jyohaku gripped the edge of his seat, humiliated from the response. An uncomfortable sensation of tightness constricted him, reminding him painfully of the last time he was with a woman. He couldn't remember.

Cautiously he peered down, as a whiff of her scent caught his nose. There was something alluring in her fragrance; it was sly and subtle, and layered quietly underneath it all, a warm sense of nostalgia. It provoked him, beckoning him to a place faraway.

In that vague threshold between stupor and sobriety, the woman nestled in his chest became _compelling_.

" _You smell good_ ," he heard his voice say, except he could not recognize it.

She sighed, her warm breath feathering on his neck. " _You too_."

There was a sudden knock on his window. Jyohaku looked out, and almost died on the spot. Sesshoumaru was peering at him from behind the glass.

"You look bewildered," her butler observed drily, when the window rolled down. His peculiar eyes hovered over Kagome, sleeping like a kitten, before meeting Jyohaku's dying face. "Did I interrupt anything?"

* * *

She woke up with a nauseating headache the next morning, in what she believed was the worst hangover she had experienced. Still, amidst her groggy vision, she spotted something strange draped around the chair of her dressing table.

It was a men's coat, one too big for Sesshoumaru. Kagome picked it up, and after a moment of consideration, brought it under her nose. It had a faint scent of cologne.

"Morning," she called in the garden, her eyes stilting from the bright sunlight. Sesshoumaru was up on a ladder under the pear tree, dressed appropriately for the activity in a straw hat and a pair of gardening gloves. He weighted a pear carefully, still hanging by its branch, with an analytical gaze.

Kagome rolled her eyes. If she were to ask him what he was, he would probably say, _"I'm a pear farmer now."_

"Good morning. You caught me at a good time." He descended the ladder with his basket of reapings. "Do you know there is an art to harvesting pears? Unlike other fruits, they ripen from the inside—and by the time they appear mature, they've already passed beyond it.

"The trick is to pick them when they are mature but not yet fully ripened. Like Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, _"There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat."_ "

"Sounds just like you to have a quote for pears," Kagome replied. "How did I get home yesterday?"

"The priest sent you."

"He did, didn't he?" Her brows furrowed. "Sesshoumaru, you lied to me. You said I wouldn't need my cardigan last night."

"I did not." He smiled under his straw hat, the shadow of its rim shading over his eyes. "Don't worry," he said again. "All is in good order. Come here, Kagome."

She stood before him and he held the sides of her face, almost in a clinical manner. Then he fetched a pear from his basket. He took a bite, before sending the piece to her from his mouth. Kagome grimaced as her teeth gnashed against its flesh, its sweet juice bursting everywhere.

She closed her eyes as he kissed her. It was different, this time around. Almost as though he was tasting her, his tongue sweeping slowly and curiously on her palate. She whimpered in his mouth.

"You're almost ripe," he whispered. _"Just a little more."_

Kagome blinked. She finally saw his eyes under his hat, and they were affectionate and pleased.

She wondered if she had imagined his words.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some chapters are a breeze to write, and some chapters gut you inside. This chapter was hell, because of the evolving dynamic in Kagome and Jyohaku's relationship. It went through so many rewrites! The problem with having OCs sometimes is that they tend to act like free-range chickens inside your head, and then they sabotage your story. If you're a writer, you'll know what I'm talking about *laughs helplessly*.
> 
> Anyway I think some readers might have a few questions regarding this chapter, so I'll try my best to answer them!
> 
> Q: Where did Kagome get her cashmere cardigan from? Is it South Africa or South America?  
> A: Have you not been paying attention?
> 
> Q: Is the straw hat Sesshoumaru wore the Luffy kind or the wandering samurai kind?  
> A: It's probably the Luffy kind.
> 
> Q: I didn't know Jyohaku was divorced? Like is that why he's bitter all the time?  
> A: Hey, you shouldn't stereotype divorcees. *angry free-range chicken noises*
> 
> (In which none of the questions the readers actually asked, appeared here)


	25. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

#  **Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?**

_Three months later_

“I’m going to have a dark tan when we return,” Kagome fretted, as she squeezed the last drops of sunscreen on her bare arms. Beside her Sesshoumaru was quietly basking on his lounge chair under the summer sun, on the deck of _Angelus_ , a hazy view of Oshidomari Port behind them. On the far horizon lied a stretch of whaling ships.

He had on a pair of Prada sunglasses, and a _batik_ -printed shirt she had never seen before. She thought it was gaudy as hell.

“Are you still going to love me when I’m all dark and blotchy?” Kagome further languished in her superficial worries, and for a moment she entertained the idea of just settling in the cabin and seeing what the chef was up to.

Yesterday the chef had prepared fresh _fugu_ and _uni_ , a lethal combination of pufferfish and sea urchin on a single plate. She tried to omit from her mind the unpleasant detail of how Sesshoumaru had made her accompany her meal with— of all things—pear wine. She wanted to retch just remembering it. She tasted peach wine before, but pear wine was something else altogether—it was sweet and sickly and just awful in general.

Pears were following her all the way from Tokyo to that little island off the coast of Hokkaido.

It was the Golden Week in Japan. She had been granted two days of leave from work, and suggested the idea of flocking to one of those little islands up north where the summer was kinder.

They were in the middle of the sea, in a small private yacht belonging to an “acquaintance”. It was quite windy, to the point where Kagome had stopped fetching her dropping hat. Maybe the sun was more merciful in this island, but it still dazzled brightly in her eyes and she beat herself again for leaving her sunglasses in the hotel.

The sea was calm, gently bobbing the anchored yacht on its waters. But what if—and this thought just jumped out to her from nowhere— what if there was a large whale, just cruising silently underneath their boat? What if the whale for its own reasons just decided to leap out from the sea surface, its majestic size blocking the sun, as it sprayed its long-withheld breath onto their exposed selves on the deck? They would be caught so off-guard that they would probably die from the shock.

She looked at Sesshoumaru, rubbing her arms harder now. It was possible. There might just be a whale lurking underneath them, and they would never know.

“Do you even love me?” she wondered bitterly. “You know, you never actually told me that. Sesshoumaru. Come talk to me for awhile.”

Sesshoumaru finally shifted his head to her. He smirked lightly under his sunglasses. “Yes?”

“I’m asking if… Oh never mind.”

If only she was back at the port. At least there was a multitude of things in Rishiri Island to distract her, not on this boat where she was stuck with the blinding sun, her apathetic partner and the imaginary whale beneath them.

“I’m not the least _concerned_ , if you turn dark and blotchy,” Sesshoumaru replied at last. “I cannot be _concerned_ with such trivial things.”

"So will you still love me?"

Sesshoumaru lifted his shades and rose from his chair. He watched her for a moment, like a stealthy snake studying an oblivious mouse, and Kagome pretended that her only care in the world then was her empty sunscreen bottle. She rubbed her arms until they became all red and sore, her palms sticky, and still he wouldn’t stop watching.

"Love?" he reiterated as though it was his first time hearing the word. "Love. Why do you use that word?”

Kagome restrained her frown.

Sesshoumaru looked ahead to the sky, where a pair of seagulls soared from afar, braying shrilly. A breeze came and caressed through his long silvered hair, a cool, sea-salt breeze that was lost on her.

“The human concept of love continues to endure through the centuries. This _notion_ that your kind would flaunt so proudly. Since I came here, I've watched thousands of films and read countless of books. I listened to endless tracks of songs and I remember every line of every poem. But I have yet to figure out its actual definition. It must be a human thing to romanticize even the dreary concept of a soulmate."

"But," he said, looking back to her, "if you believe everything I've done thus far constitutes that notion, then yes. I love you, quietly in the darkest hour before the veil of night slips, imploringly in the manner of the night-bird as it pines for the moon, and selflessly, all your wishes embedded in my fingers, forged in iron-blood."

Kagome thought she had forgotten to breathe.

She laid back on her lounge chair and covered her arm over her eyes. It was alright—the sun couldn't blind her this way, and so could his terrible shirt. She felt the breeze when it came, salty in her nose and soothing on her arms, and the whale—the whale could come out right now for all she cared and capsize the boat, and they would drown and die, but it wouldn't matter anymore because he _loved_ her…

"So what are you now, Sesshoumaru?" she asked him. "A dream poet?"

Sesshoumaru slid back his sunglasses.

"I can be anything or anyone you want, Kagome. Just say the word."

* * *

Amari Kirihata, the only daughter in the Kirihata family and younger sister to Ichiro Kirihata, was dressed in a yellow sundress and matching sandals as she stepped out of the gantry at the crowded train station.

"Amari! _Amari!_ Over here!" she heard a familiar voice. She looked up and clutched her hat in excitement.

_"Onii -chan!"_

She dashed to her brother who was waving and rewarded him with a violent, bone-splintering hug.

"Oww!" Ichiro yelled. "Are you trying to kill me?" Nevertheless, he broke into a smile and tousled her hair. "How have you been? Have you eaten?"

Amari shook her head. "Let's go to McDonalds!"

"Awesome, a Happy Meal it is."

"But I don't want a Happy Meal," she pouted.

It was summer-time in Tokyo, the azure skies bearing thin wisps of cloud, the swirling heat unbearable. The train station was teeming with families spending the school holidays.

The siblings took a stroll on a boardwalk by the sea after their meal, Amari eating an ice lolly as she walked over the raised curb.

"I hate it. Why do you have to move so far? I have to travel two hours by train just to see you."

Ichiro slid his hands in his leather jacket as he walked, even though it was sweltering outside and he was sweating buckets.

"I'm sorry, Amari. What if you move out and live with me?"

Amari kicked a piece of twig near her feet. "I can't. It's too far from the shrine and besides, I don't think Mom and Dad will allow me."

Ichiro sneered. "You're already 26, Amari. You should do what you want."

"Well, that's the problem. I don't know what I want." She tossed the lolly stick into a bin and hopped down to walk beside her brother. "I'm working in the shrine only because you said I would look cute in a _miko_ outfit."

He gave a little snicker and hooked his arm around her. "You do look cute, Amari. You're the cutest sister in the world."

They stopped by the railing to catch a view of the wide sea, glittering under the summer sun. Their eyes squinted at the row of tankers on the horizon. A pair of seagulls fluttered about the boardwalk amid the chatter of children. The breeze came, ruffling through their hair and clothes, a cool sea-salt breeze that made them want to relive the moment forever.

"We should go to the beach one day. Just like old times," Amari suggested. "Do you remember how our parents would bring us snorkelling?"

Ichiro grinned. "Yes, you were obsessed with seeing the corals. You practically begged Mom and Dad to bring you there all the time."

"Remember that stupid old nickname you gave me?" And they both answered in unison: "Coral Girl!"

Amari giggled like mad. "I hated every time you called me that. You were always bullying me."

She sighed. _Now what I would do just to rewind those times again._

"Anyway guess what, Amari? I'm in the midst of starting my own convenience store chain as we speak. So I'm going to be really busy nowadays."

"What! That's amazing!"

"Yeah? That way ain't nobody can tell me what I can or cannot wear. I'll be my own boss from now on."

Amari hugged her brother tightly. "I'm so proud of you, _onii-chan_. And I know our parents will be too."

"Well, anyway. How's Kagome-sama doing?" her brother suddenly brought up.

"Oh," she said. "Kagome-sama is a priestess now."

 _"Wow_ ," he breathed. "She's doing really well too, isn't she?" _We're doing really well without each other._

Amari turned back to the sea. "She asked how you were doing. She was shocked when I told her you moved."

Ichiro frowned, his lips a thin line. "Is she still with that man?"

"You mean Sesshoumaru-san?"

"Yes."

She laughed. "They're practically _inseparable_. I don't think anyone can split them apart."

"Amari. When you meet her at work, can you pass her this letter?"

Her brother handed her an envelope from his jacket. There was an utmost serious look on his face that she had never seen before. "Make sure nobody sees you when you do," he said.

"What's this about?" She took the letter in wonder. It was sealed with glue.

"It's my love letter to her, so don't read it!"

"Oh! Is it a symbol of your unrequited love? My hand is shaking just from holding it!"

"Promise me, Amari. Tell her to read my letter when she's alone," Ichiro said.

He was gripping her shoulders tightly, with no trace of humour in his voice. Amari felt pain underneath his fingers. She felt _scared_ as she stared deep into his eyes. Her brother was different now. She couldn't put a finger to it. It was as if something had changed inside him.

"Make sure she reads it only when she's alone. And _burn_ it immediately after."

* * *

Sitting in her work desk, Kagome smiled to herself as she calculated through the month's balance sheet.

Ever since the cats arrived, the shrine had seen their cash donations snowball exponentially, all thanks to the Yukino Cat Challenge. It proved to be a hit among the young generation—the age group previously defined as most unlikely to visit a place of worship—with most of its success due to the attention it had garnered online.

 _I sure hope the old folks from the shrine committee learnt their lesson_ , she said to herself. They had been uppity when the idea was first proposed, with Jyohaku having to fight his way through in order to convince them.

With a triumphant smile, Kagome gathered all their financial reports into a folder, smacked it close and decided to call it a day. It was only an hour before lunch then, but she had to deserve it. For the past few weeks, her superior had been taking his leave every other day, piling up her duties. She stretched herself in her seat as one of the thirteen shrine cats meowed its way into the room—a tortoiseshell with sparkling green eyes—and jumped into her lap. Picking it up, she squinted at its face and tried to remember its name.

"Ah, you're Shippo-chan, aren't you?" she exclaimed. "I used to know a wee little kit by the same name, whose eyes were green just like yours..."

Amari's figure passed by the open room outside. Kagome called out to her.

"Would you mind passing these reports next door?" she asked. “I need Jyohaku to sign.”

Amari considered for a moment. "Should I wait after lunch when he's in a good mood?"

Kagome smiled. "Don't worry, these are _good_ reports!"

"Oh, I wouldn't take that risk. Haven't you noticed that he's been out of it recently? He looks troubled, and seemed to have lost a fair bit of weight too."

"Really?" Kagome said, as she tickled Shippo behind his ear. The cat purred like an engine in reply. "It's just like you to make these observations, Amari."

Amari's cheeks were suffused in red. "Well..."

"Maybe I'm wrong, but I honestly thought you and Kouhei had already become an item."

She hesitated. "I'm still unsure of my feelings towards him."

She saw the priestess press her with a concerned look, despite her hands full with the cat.

"Can I offer you a piece of advice?" Kagome then said, her voice kind but firm. "People say to shoot for the moon, don't they? Because even if you fall, you'll land among the stars. Well, I don't believe in that. What I do believe is while you're trying to shoot for the moon—don't let the stars already in your grasp fall along the way. Do you understand what I mean, Amari?"

The miko blushed even harder, looking sheepishly at her feet. "To pursue for naught, only to lose what's brought. Gee, you're turning wise just like our head priest, Kagome-sama."

Kagome snorted as she passed her the folder. "Hah. Was he ever wise?"

"Oh, before I forget," Amari said, turning back just in time, "I met my brother yesterday. He wanted me to give you this."

She produced a letter as Kagome stared at her in shock. "What? And is he well?"

"He's _very_ well. He's starting his own convenience-store business. Can you believe that?"

"My god."

"But he had a very strange request about the letter. He said you should only read it alone, and to burn it immediately after."

Kagome inspected the envelope in her hand but it was blank, revealing no clues.

"Thank you, Amari."

"You're welcome, Kagome-sama. I'll see you for lunch!"

Kagome closed the door after her and returned to her seat. It wasn't a simple letter, she knew. She could feel a dark premonition lurking within its contents. Her fingers quivered over the thin edge of the envelope.

Her emotions were a stark contrast to the bright summer-soaked surroundings outside her window, the cicadas had gone mute as she read.

_'Dear Kagome,_

_'First and foremost, before you read another line, please ensure you're alone. I need you to do this. It's important.'_

"Yes, I'm alone now," she said.

_'Kagome, this letter is a testament of my cowardice, and my inability to act._

_I ran with my tail between my legs when I could have charged forward. But I didn't, because I lacked courage. What strength I have left is in this pen, and even then I'm gripping it so hard. Kagome, you have to be braver than me. I'll be straight to the point. Please brace yourself over my next words._

_THAT MAN LIVING WITH YOU IS DANGEROUS. HE IS EVIL._

_Do not let him deceive you._

_He is not who you think he is_ _._

_Trust me, because I would be dead right now if I hadn't cried for mercy. I'm ashamed I did. But I wouldn't be here writing this letter to warn you. If he can hurt me badly, he can hurt anyone else in that manner and he can even hurt you._

_Please heed my words before it's too late. It's the only thing I ask from you. I'm dead serious. You can ignore everything else about me but not this letter. You need to pack your stuff and get away from him now._

_And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn’t be there to help you. I'm sorry that I couldn’t be the hero of your dreams. Your knight in shining armour on a white horse coming for your rescue, like you imagined when you were young. I can't be any of those things for you._

_Maybe in another life, I could be someone who's stronger and prove my worth. Maybe in another life, we'll get to know each other again and fall in love. And during that time, I hope you will see me the same way as I always have._

_Dearly, in my heart._

_It's the end of my letter. Please burn it once you're done. There should be no traces of this message left. Absolutely no traces._

_Love,_ _Ichiro Kirihata_

It was the whale. Kagome bent over in her seat, trying to grasp a single deep breath. The whale underneath the boat. It had finally made its appearance.

Her door suddenly banged open. "Kagome-sama!" It was Amari, her eyes distraught. 

"It's Jyohaku-sama! He's collapsed!"

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Amari, the purveyor of bad news.


	26. Reason to Believe

_‘If I gave you time to change my mind  
I'd find a way just to leave the past behind  
Knowing that you lied  
Straight-faced while I cried  
Still I look to find a reason to believe’_  
 **-Reason to Believe,** Carpenters

# Reason to Believe

_‘That man living with you is dangerous. He is evil.’_

_‘Do not let him deceive you.’_

_‘He is not who you think he is.’_

The paper crumpled under the pot as the fire consumed it, Ichiro’s words blackened and charred. Kagome stood by the stove, watching it render into soot. She had done what he had instructed. She had burned his letter upon reading it.

Was there any proof now that Ichiro had indeed written and sent her a letter?

Did her hands really shake as she read through its contents, her feet cold, terrified as much as she was confused as she imagined the gravity of her situation?

 _“‘Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise’. There is a certain sense of liberation, in being unable to see or know.”_ He had said that once, didn’t he? Sesshoumaru had said that once.

The pot began to billow with steam, wafting onto her face. Kagome shut the stove. If anything disturbing did happen that day, it was that the priest had fallen sick and she had cooked him a pot of porridge.

* * *

_“One, two three!” His opponent stays motionless under him, as the referee slams the ring floor. The bell screams, and the crowd goes berserk as they chant his name..._

The wet cloth slapped on Jyohaku's forehead, and his eyes rolled back to consciousness.

Kagome leaned down with a frown and swept off the incorrigible waves of hair crowding around his face. An inexplicable feeling grated through his bones. Half-shrouded in a blanket upon his _futon_ , the remnants of his nausea still at the back of his throat, Jyohaku felt like a helpless insect under her scrutiny.

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Kagome surmised to his pale face. "The appeal of vulnerability. There's something strangely attractive about you lying here sick and defenceless." The thermometer beeped at his ear. "Oh look, you're burning. Let me ask you for the third time: _Are you sure you don't want to see the doctor?_ ”

Jyohaku scowled. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Earlier on, Amari had been inconsolable when she discovered him rolling in his own pool of vomit. Kouhei would have called the ambulance if not for his insistent refusal. Kagome then brought him home, the skies opening up to rain the moment they walked through his door.

Part of the shrine's property and connected through a short gravel pathway, Jyohaku’s house was bigger than she speculated from outside. There were more rooms than she could count, and a large garden in passing—all ideal for a family unit. However with his parents long gone and his sister residing in his hometown in northeastern Tohoku, the space eventually became a white elephant. It was too big for a lone man to live in and now that his cats were gone, it looked even emptier.

The soft rush of rain continued outside the windows, the room dim and quiet. As she sat there beside his _futon_ , something about the ambience gave her a disconcerting sense of déjà vu.

"You know, you look a little yellow there," she commented.

"Thanks, it's the jaundice," he replied, rubbing his face miserably.

"Jaundice?"

"Take my medication, please. It’s in the second drawer.”

Kagome did as told, and paused when she saw the bag. The prescription was filled with a concerning assortment of pills, and vials with syringes. An envelope peeked out from underneath the bag. This one was bigger, a manila envelope with the hospital's name and logo on it.

A stomach-churning dread filled her.

"What’s with this stash? Do you have some sort of condition?"

Jyohaku regarded her quietly for a moment. "Just fetch it first."

She handed the glass of water she had poured beforehand as he rummaged through his medicine. It took him a long time to finish his pills, his arm clenched around his abdomen. He landed back heavily with a soft, agonized groan.

To say she was worried about him was an understatement. She had never seen him in such a dire, reckless state. The envelope in his drawer jutted into her mind again.

Before Kagome could say anything, Jyohaku suddenly spoke, beckoning her with his hoarse voice and pallid eyes.

“Higurashi...”

“Yes?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

His fingers closed around her wrist. She leaned down and trained her ear to his lips.

“You remember my old man, don’t you?” he said quietly. She nodded. “Quite simply, I caught what got him.”

Jyohaku's father, the previous head of Yukino Shrine, had been the one who healed her and sealed the door to the Bone-Eater's Well for good many years ago. He had died of pancreatic cancer.

With a cry Kagome pulled away, as though his touch had branded her skin with fire. 

“The doctors discovered a tumour in his pancreas,” he murmured. “It was malignant, pressing on his nerves and arteries, causing him constant agony. They had to shrink it before it was deemed safe for surgery. So they had him plugged up with chemotherapy. When that didn’t work, they tried radiotherapy. His body was eventually wrung dry, his healthy cells destroyed, his tissues impaired. I just watched him as he slowly wasted away.”

“I’ve made my decision,” Jyohaku said firmly, his lips set in a grim line, “I’m not going to let the doctors ruin me the way they did with my father…”

“ _No!_ ” Kagome shook his shoulders. “No, you're lying— _you_ of all people—you can't have cancer, you're just fine, I know it!"

His eyes remained lackluster, unfamiliar to her. Her emotions burst forth before she could stop herself, stinging her face. "Please, you can't give up on yourself like this..." 

A discernible look flickered across Jyohaku's face. “I already died when my life was altered to become a priest. Do you understand that there is no difference? My death just stretches beyond, slowly.”

Kagome knelt there for a few minutes, thoroughly speechless. Her mind had gone numb from disbelief. Just when she thought she had found respite—her nightmares had stopped, and she had a wonderful vacation—things were tumbling down around her again. Ichiro's shocking letter. And now, Jyohaku's sickness. All these things…they were never-ending, weren't they?

Everyone around her had either gotten hurt, fallen sick or died. And she was in the center of this ring of calamity.

“What happens to the shrine now?” she then whispered.

“I know what you’re thinking about. My lack of a successor. I suppose I can no longer run around and skirt the matter.”

She wiped away her tears. “I’m sure you won’t find any trouble securing a wife. In fact, if you allow me to recommend someone—”

Jyohaku shut his eyes with a frown. “I don’t need a wife. What I need is someone who can raise a child for the shrine, someone to lead in my absence, meanwhile.” He turned away, mumbling over his words. “I already have someone in mind. It’s just a matter if she wishes to accept me.”

“Who is it?” Kagome couldn't hide her smile, half in curiosity, and half in morbid delight. It was a well-known fact that marrying into a shrine family paved a way to riches and security. “Is there anyone stupid enough to turn you down? Your good reputation precedes you among the townsfolk, and I know your sullen, congested looks have captured a heart or two—”

“It’s _you_. I’m talking about you.”

“No,” she breathed immediately. Her hand flew to her mouth, her bewildered eyes darting to the walls to search for anything she could grasp. It seemed like Jyohaku was the only real thing in that room.

Not even in her most senseless dreams did she anticipate this. Or perhaps this was really one of them. One of her crazy dreams.

“What kind of joke is that?” Kagome looked at him, an incredulous smile tugging on her lips. The sheer absurdity of it all was driving her to laugh. “Don’t think I forgot what you said once. That you would never marry someone like me.”

“I also said that you would be an apprentice forever,” Jyohaku replied.

She picked up the bowl of porridge that had been sitting beside him for sometime. “I admit you almost got me there. Come on now. It’s rude to let your food wait.”

Jyohaku felt his sickness rouse back inside him, a dull, throbbing pain in his pancreas. There was something else that he felt, something beyond physical pain, wrenching in his chest.

"I’ve lost my appetite," he said sullenly.

"Just a few spoonfuls, okay? I had a hard time trying to whip this out in your kitchen."

Jyohaku shirked away when the spoon reached him. "No."

"Just a little, you have to eat."

"I'll eat it later. Go back to the shrine."

"Please, you have to—"

"I said, _leave!_ "

His hand suddenly flung at her and the bowl hurled off, clattering onto the floor in pieces.

Kagome gasped quietly. Jyohaku turned and curled up, grimacing, as his act of rage opened an old wound inside his guts. His cancerous tumour pulsed to life inside him, a putrid festering mass, awakened and agitated.

Marching through the paralyzing pain, his consciousness slipped in and out, and in the midst of that deliriousness, could hear the clinking sounds of the broken bowl.

The rhythm of the falling rain remained unchanged outside his windows. Jyohaku was unsure how much time had passed. His pain slightly ebbed away from its torturous peak, leaving his clothes damp from his perspiration. He collected his breaths in deep pauses, still shivering.

He turned back to speak to her. But she was already gone, the empty room gaping back at him.

* * *

_I love you, quietly in the darkest hour before the veil of night slips._

When she returned, Sesshoumaru was at the kitchen by the counter, gutting a red snapper.

It was a sight fully ingrained in her. Him in his apron, long sleeves rolled up, silverlight hair bunched in an afterthought. She viewed his image through so many lenses over the years. There was surprise initially, that the demon she exorcised even knew how to cook, then it burgeoned to awe and delight, and after a while she admitted taking his skills for granted.

From an unassuming plate he transported her palate to the "four corners of the world", as he liked to phrase it.

Right now however, watching him use a sharp knife to slice the fish's belly open to spill its innards, its head chopped off and cleaned sitting in a bowl, she wondered something else. She wondered about his true nature.

Was she gullible to believe she could actually tame a beast—a great _youkai_ lord that once ruled over western Japan centuries ago?

Was _he_ gullible to think he could sit here so prettily and live his new days in blissful servitude?

Maybe they were both gullible. Maybe they both believed _this_ was their karma.

_Imploringly, in the manner of the night-bird, as it pines for the moon._

"You're late," Sesshoumaru said, without looking at her.

"I'm sorry. The priest fell sick and...I had to cook for him." She didn't tell him what exactly had transpired. She had something else in her mind—Ichiro's words in his letter ringing hard in her head.

When did it start? It was after they returned from the villa, wasn't it? No, Kagome thought. It was _when_ they were at the villa. Right after he visited the bridge, and claimed her body.

Afterwards he wasn't the Sesshoumaru that she always knew. Afterwards he became the Sesshoumaru that he had always _meant_ to be.

It was as though something had spurred him at the bridge.

"Don't they say that a man's heart is through his stomach?" His voice broke through her thoughts. He glanced at her, his face impassive.

“No,” Kagome said regrettably. “He didn’t really eat it.”

"He’s not very bright, then. Have you had dinner yourself? It will be ready soon."

She looked at the large fish head in the bowl, its dead eye peeking at her.

"Fish-head curry,” he explained. “It's a delicacy popular in Singapore and Malaysia. I agree it's quite an acquired taste. They even eat the eyes."

Sesshoumaru threw the curry paste into the pot, the oil sputtering. The sharp smell of spices rose quickly, prickling her olfactory senses. Among the other ingredients, he had added a bruised stalk of lemongrass, some curry leaves and milk, and then the snapper, head and all. As the curry began to simmer, the smell permeating through the curtains, their neighbours made known, so did her thoughts roiling to an unstoppable pitch.

She traced back their steps.

"Sesshoumaru," Kagome started. "There’s something I need to ask. What was the last thing you and Mr Morikawa talked about during dinner?”

Sesshoumaru adjusted the heat of the stove and wiped his hands with a cloth. “He was very adamant.”

“Adamant?”

“We had a minor altercation. I confess I lost my composure.”

She feigned confusion, feeling ill. “I don’t understand.”

“This Sesshoumaru can tolerate a lot of things,” he said, “but not things that threaten and endanger you. They all pay dearly for it.”

_Selflessly, all your wishes embedded in my fingers, forged in iron-blood._

The world closed in on her. She was in a dark place once more as her panic swarmed to seize her, shutting her down.

“You didn’t…” her words broke off. Her chest felt tight, her breaths a painful struggle. "...do anything to him, did you? You didn't do anything to anyone…"

"I suppose I did fashion to make it look like a suicide. Tragic, but completely avoidable. Just the same way your friend tripped over the stairs."

He continued, his voice completely indifferent to his speech. "It was a different case for the others. I did what had to be done because you _wished_ for it. You wished not to see Ichiro anymore, so I made sure he would never dare to show his face again. As for the priest…"

She looked up sharply. "What did—what did you do to Jyohaku?"

"I gave him a drink to relieve him of his suffering. The poor man, all he dreams about are the bright spotlights and the roaring crowd. Well, he can dream forever now." He sent her a disarming, victorious smile. "Tell me, has he proposed to you yet?"

When the colour drained off her face, he nodded to himself. "Congratulations, Kagome. You're now ripe for the picking. You're on the way to becoming the next head of Yukino Shrine."

Sesshoumaru shut the stove off. He removed his apron and hooked it on the wall.

"Don’t dwell too much on it,” he said. Kagome collapsed to her knees, her lungs crushing inside her, her sight darkening around the edges. “If it makes you feel better, you could see my actions as a form of loyalty, in exchange for the life you've gifted me.”

She slipped onto the floor. She was crawling on the kitchen tiles.

" _Loyalty_?" she breathed, dragging herself out. She needed to go there before it was too late. The special corner in her bed, that deep burrow underground. "You're not some kind of _dog_ , Sesshoumaru."

His walking feet blocked her path. Kagome struggled to look as Sesshoumaru knelt down to her.

"Then what would you call it?" His face was emotionless—he had placed on his stone-cast mask. She felt icicles in her veins. "What would you call everything I've done for you?"

She peered beyond his placid eyes, looking for something more within. Something to believe in.

"Love? Is that what you wanted to hear?" he said, touching her quivering face. "There are bonds stronger than love, Kagome. Love is but a fluttering feather, fleeting in the wind. But my loyalty lasts forever."

He pulled up her arms. "Come now, don't lie on the kitchen floor."

She restrained against him, pulling her body down like a deadweight. Her slurred words tumbled from her lips.

"Why don't you just kill me too, Sesshoumaru?"

"No, Kagome. I see you have a flawed understanding of us."

Sesshoumaru cradled her limp body. If he were to touch her at a wrong place, she would crack and crumble into little pieces. He couldn't bear that.

He kissed around her temples where it ached, then the corners of eyes where her tears fell profusely, until there were none left for herself or himself or anyone else for that matter.

"My life starts and ends with yours. That is what it means to be soul-bound; to be soulmates."

She did not respond, letting herself go as if she was already dead.

"Just for awhile. I will lend you just for a while." Sesshoumaru stroked and murmured into her hair. "Nothing more. And when everything is over, I will come to take you away. That is my promise to you.”

* * *

" _So what are you now, Sesshoumaru? A dream poet?”_

_"I can be anything or anyone you want, Kagome. Just say the word."_

_To be continued…_

**A/N: I have successfully converted Sesshoumaru into a psychopath for this fic. *spins around in happiness* His character is heavily influenced by Mads Mikkelsen' portrayal of Hannibal in the drama series. His flair in cooking, his calculative methodology, his superficial charm. Oh yes, the way he gets in Kagome's head! She can't get rid of him now. Watch Hannibal if you haven't!**

~~I LOVE MADS MIKKELSEN~~


	27. Under the Magnolia, By The Arakawa

# Under the Magnolia, By The Arakawa

**During the year 1569**

"Our spies have returned last night," she told him, "and every word they proclaim is more or less the same. There is one among us providing _assistance_ to the human warlords."

"One among us?"

"Of _bakemono_ blood. A _tengu_ , to be precise."

Sesshoumaru strolled to the banister lining the castle corridors, his hands kept tightly behind his back. A flicker of emotion seemed to pass his face, or perhaps it was the play of shadows, furnished by the burning lantern hanging above.

"What do we know of this _tengu_?"

The sleeves of his mother's kimono rustled quietly from behind. "Hijikamon of Mount Takao," she said. "You must know about him."

Hijikamon was an ancient bird, revered in the demon circles for his prodigious powers, art of combat and wisdom. A thousand years ago the devout ascetic had lent strength to the West when the demons from the dark continent came to attack.

She spoke again. "The most highest class of _tengu_ he is, he fancies himself so divine he has proclaimed himself a god."

"And the reason he is helping the humans is because..."

"Because they have promised their subservience to him." His mother smiled. "That is all you ever need for a god, isn't it? Worshippers.

Now Sesshoumaru, I want you to weed out Hijikamon in his little nest and do what you must."

" _Mother_. You wish for me to kill Hijikamon?"

Her voice rose sharp to cut against his own. "I am not your mother. I am ordering you as the Dowager Lady of the West. Find Hijikamon and end him. 'Tis not an amusing sight to see human soldiers flailing their paltry weapons with _bakemono_ power against us. The Castle of the East has surrendered, the North is buckling on their knees. It leaves us and the Southern Cats to act. And act we must."

A night breeze came, gentle and light, whispering into the castle. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, allowing its feathery tendrils to trace his face and neck. It was quiet and sedentary in the castle, and hard to believe that only a few miles down the rocky mountains, westwards, a terrible war was tearing the country apart.

Fight. Fight against the humans. Never would he have thought the day would come when he would have to recognize the trifling critters as an enemy. Ten years ago one man by the name of Oda Nobunaga had risen in power, bringing along a dream of unifying the land under one rule—a human rule. It was a declaration of war between the scattered feudal lords, a conflict of ideals and interests. And yet if anything did unify them, it was their goal to cleanse the lands of anything inhuman. Because they bred like the vermin they were, their numbers multiplied larger than anyone could count, steadily toppling _youkai_ empires that had lasted thousands of years before them.

Now Sesshoumaru himself was embroiled in this battle as a lord of his own empire, in which he was pressed to not only protect himself, but his whole kind.

He soothed his temples. The matter had only been a little niggling at the back of his mind when the first hearsays reached the castle. Now the joke had gone stale. Somewhere, a wind-chime chinked softly as if signaling someone's arrival.

A spy came to reveal himself, one commissioned by the castle, materializing in the air in a swirling shadow. His mother did not bother to hide her snort upon his appearance, and it was not just due to his untimely manner. This spy was different from the ones his mother had dispatched. His name was Oka, and he only knelt to Sesshoumaru. At first his mother had been amused by the role her son had designed for him, but over time it grew into resentment.

"Really, Sesshoumaru? At a crucial time like this? Stop dipping your feet into two rivers at once!"

She walked off briskly, the long train of her robe trailing along the corridor. Sesshoumaru watched her. Her words echoed hollow from the distance.

" _Our kind, before everything else!_ "

"Did I come at a wrong time, milord?" Oka whispered.

Sesshoumaru turned back to face the mountains.

"You would not have known. Now speak quickly."

"I bring urgent news, milord. Rin has been afflicted with great harm and insists on your audience." Upon those words, the night breeze turned into a cold splash of water on his face.

"What... _How?_ "

"She was sent in disguise to surveil a human soldier serving under Ieyasu Tokugawa's liege. Unfortunately he saw through her ruse and had her cornered with his other companions."

Sesshoumaru whipped to Oka, his eyes alight with unconcealed fury.

"In disguise? And who? Who would send her for such a task?"

"The Saika Ikki, milord. A well-known mercenary group led by a man called Magoichi Saika...her husband."

Sesshoumaru's voice caught in his chest, speechless with surprise.

Oka quickly continued. "But Rin is a crafty one—she's managed to escape. I revealed myself to her, whereupon this message was contrived. Her exact words: _"I will wait for you under the magnolia tree by the Arakawa."_ "

The magnolia tree. It had been their meeting point when she still lived at the village orphanage before it was razed to ashes, a disaster that claimed his half-brother's life. Under the magnolia tree—that was how he had discreetly lavished her with resplendent gifts, until the day she told him a prosperous suitor had asked for her hand.

"The village will benefit from the marriage, he promised me so," Rin had said, averting from his gaze. Sesshoumaru was surprised then not by the sudden news but by his own callous reaction. How he had scorned her then; called her an ingrate. Her ties to him as his loyal ward were promptly severed. When he returned to his castle, sober, sad, he called for a spy to watch over her. Oka had been doing so for years.

A _kanzashi_ hair pin, made of gold and encrusted with three different jewels. That was the last gift he imparted to her.

Sesshoumaru blinked.

"Hurry, milord. She is on the move as we speak."

* * *

He could smell it even before he reached her, something not even the river could mask: the scent of her blood mixed with tears. Rin had always smelled of many things as she stood beside him growing up, of soil, sea-salt, and ash. But it was the scent of these two things, _of her own blood and tears_ , that he could never keep a straight face to, be it a year, or seven years in passing.

And when he saw her at last he could not even speak, a crushing lump in his throat, and suddenly his knees felt so weary from the journey that he needed to fall upon her lap.

Except that her lap was soiled, stained and bloodied. His stomach churned.

Rin, who had been sitting under the magnolia tree, face towards the idle river, her features obscured, turned meekly at him. She moved to bow with a soft whisper of his name, but he quickly held her. He laid her to rest against his pelt, like she used to during the hot days of summer, shaded under the trees. Something glittered in her hair outside the shadows.

"I see you are wearing the hairpin I gifted you," Sesshoumaru said. It was a foolish sentence to start, one of a thousand he should not have spoken, but he was not in the right state of mind, though right enough to know it was wrong.

"I hadn't planned to wear it for this reckless meeting."

"It is beautiful, regardless."

Rin breathed a smile. She missed the comfort of his pelt; it was warm and soft, invoking her lost days of youth, of innocence and naivete, of guilelessness and carelessness. And she was allowed to feel all of those things, because back then there was always someone to pull her back if she ever stepped too far. Didn't she once swear that she would stay her whole life with her lord?

That night it was as though she had jumped from a nightmare straight into a dream.

She lifted her head to look at him out of curiosity despite her condition. She saw the way the moonshine glowed on his face, the way none of his features barely changed despite seven years after their last meeting, still poised and beautiful, while she laid there, disheveled and aged and half-dead. The world was a little unfair like that.

"Hush, Rin. Try not to move."

She heard the shredding of cloth which made her shudder. "Those men. They were evil."

"Hush, I say. Not a single word."

Sesshoumaru dressed the bleeding wound at her hip. She had been stabbed deep when she showed resistance to the soldiers. How she made the journey here in her condition was beyond him. Humans and their varying degrees of strength baffled him sometimes.

He watched with dread as her blood seeped through the silk bindings. Her flat eyes continued to watch him, her lips pale, her breaths shallow. Tenseiga in its sheath remained silent with nary a pulse, feigning ignorance.

Twice. He had cheated Rin twice of Death. And each time felt more important than the last one. Could he do it again?

Could he defy the rules of Life and Death when he most needed it, _for the third time_?

He felt the night breeze caress his face again, white petals twirling in the air.

"You know," Rin murmured," when I was a child, I used to think the world was a beautiful place."

"It is, Rin. It still is. Just perhaps...the time is not right."

"Will it get better?"

" _Yes_. Yes it will. It will get better if you simply wait. And if you do...this spot here will be the safest place for you in this world. Under the magnolia, by the Arakawa." He felt himself clench with emotion. " _This Sesshoumaru swears upon it_."

Rin was silent for awhile. When she spoke again, her words faltered though her breath. "The soldiers told me...that it's going to be a long war." She placed her feeble hand on his. "Sesshoumaru-sama, if I die now, I'll be reborn in a better time, wouldn't I?"

She held his wrist and carried his hand to her throat. Sesshoumaru watched, incredulously, how her tears gathered before dripping like drops of dew under the still moonlight.

"I don't want to die from a silly wound. I don't want to die and dry up like a cicada."

"No, Rin," he said. "Just wait for awhile. A little while."

He pulled away but her hands gripped him with their uncanny strength. He was forced to feel just how small the girth of her neck was.

"Please," and she had never begged him before, "You presented me with this life. It's only right that you take it back."

"Rin," Sesshoumaru called again, but she was no longer listening, steeped in her own mess.

_Please, take it back._

_This life, I don't want any of it._

In the end he could only comfort himself with the thought that he had been merciful, that he did save her from the more wicked things that might have laid in waiting. And then the more he looked at her still body, the stronger the urge came. The urge to remember her, keep her close to him, _inside_ him. So delicately he bared her chest and split it open.

Her heart was still warm, and it jerked a last dying beat when he bit into it.

It took Sesshoumaru three days and three nights to build the bridge. He picked her dainty bones judiciously, and cast them into the stone to prevent them from turning into dust. His weary knees giving way, he succumbed to sleep for another three days.

When Sesshoumaru woke up, upon the orders thrust to him, he trudged up Mount Takao bleary-eyed and deranged to seek Hijikamon the _tengu,_ who would later deal him with such a fatal blow, it became the catalyst to his downfall when Magoichi Saika and his men found him.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously there's a lot of things to talk about in this chapter but I've always been one to avoid serious conversations *inserts see-no-evil monkey emoji*. Alright, how did the idea to use the Saika Ikki come from? Magoichi Saika first appeared in Binded Chapter 22: Ordainment, as Rin's husband who ultimately killed Sesshoumaru. Obviously there were questions like how could Sess die in the hands of a human—I hope this chapter clears this up—he was already physically and mentally weakened by that point. And yes, Magoichi's gun was blessed by Hijikamon so that's a double-fold.
> 
> Lastly, the practice of eating the dead in a manner to express grief and love—has its roots in endo-cannibalism, a ritual practice in some tribes. In particular, the Fore from Papua New Guinea. I had the luck to catch a documentary about them years ago, and there was a scene where they were eating the dead person's organs after the funeral. There's a very deep meaning to it aside from showing grief. It's very interesting. 
> 
> Have a good day y'all, and do what it takes to feel sane.


	28. Arc IV: Cracklines (Part 1)

# Arc IV: Cracklines (Part 1)

Sesshoumaru leaned against the door, a tight hand on the doorknob. He had two hours before his flight left for Pyongyang.

Behind the door, the television in their bedroom continued to blare with the headlines. The year had not gone off to a good start—attacks of terrorism, a global financial crisis, rising pandemics—but he knew Kagome was not watching.

He tried the door again, so close to breaking it open. However the notion of having to sully his hands with brute force held him back. Surely, this Sesshoumaru was not one to peruse such boorish methods.

_Perhaps you could tell that to yourself, once upon a time ago?_

A sudden spark of danger triggered him like a time bomb, and Sesshoumaru barged into the room before he could stop himself. His eyes moved instinctively to the bathroom where it was wide open. It was there where he discovered Kagome on the floor by the running tub, a razor blade by her wrist.

She kicked away like a cornered animal when she saw him, screaming.

“It’s useless, Kagome,” Sesshoumaru responded, with a stolid shake of his head.

“Useless to think that by ending yourself, you could destroy me. Your wise mind would tell you that it will not dissolve what has already happened.”

She didn’t resist when he intervened, or perhaps he was so strong that he could not even feel her struggle (“ _brute force”)._ In either way it did not explain the sheer weariness weighing down his body. Was it the searing blast of _reiki_ when she had screamed, or had her soul reached out to drag his own down? Sesshoumaru was sure his knees were going to buckle. He was _sure_ he was going to collapse and join the floor with her.

The blade was still clean. He tossed it into the trash.

“Do you find me such a curse?” His voice strained, his body swaying. His heartbeat ran wild as the one in her chest. “The pact you made dictates that I follow a master. Perhaps you could find someone who’s willing to be in your stead…”

“And argue if you like,” Sesshoumaru finally heaved, kneeling down to sit with her, “but when everything is over and done with— _”_

_—when the rest of the world is burning, and there is nothing else, nothing else but “here”—_

“—you will thank me for the good I’ve done.”

In the end, Kagome couldn’t do it. As much as she liked to believe she was strong, and she was courageous; in the end without the strength of her friends, she came to find herself a coward...a coward indeed.

* * *

It was a quiet weekday, with all her five siblings in school. Hana Takeda was watching the morning news, a hand gripped on her wheelchair’s armrest. Most notably was the revival of Neo-Nazi organizations in Germany, raising concerns for a possible Fourth Reich. Meanwhile in South Africa, a civil unrest had claimed hundreds of lives. This was in a country still reeling from its fresh terrorist attacks.

As of the moment, she was closely tuned to a tense commentary. Two professors were weighing in on the worsening conflict between South and North Korea.

 _Korea is so close to us,_ she told herself, with concrete fear in her heart. _If the Korean War were to repeat itself…_

 _“_ Hana! _”_ Her mother’s voice suddenly pulled her back into the small space of her living room. It was shrill, strangely frantic. She had just returned from the night shift at the laundromat.

“Hana! Oh lord, bless us…”

Hana remained still in her spot, her nose flaring. She clutched her armrest. Trust her mother to exaggerate over everything. When her mother’s exulted cries turned to sobs however, she knew something had actually happened. She wheeled herself to their front door. Her mother had slumped on the floor with tears, in her shaking hand a letter.

“Someone sent us a _cheque_ at the door…”

Frowning, Hana quickly took the cheque from her. She gasped, almost dropping it.

It was addressed to her name, for ten million yen.

* * *

_“Oh no, not me/ I never lost control”_

It had been months, before his resolve finally got the better of him. Ichiro Kirihata decided it was high time he stopped procrastinating. A little sweat, some elbow grease. For housekeeping, that was. He almost felt ashamed looking at the dusty boxes on his floor. Since he moved in, he hadn’t had the chance to unpack them.

“Right,” he told himself in bed. “I’ll get moving as _soon_ as the song on the radio finishes.”

The radio by his bedside continued to bleat with an unplugged performance by Nirvana.

_“You’re face to face/ With the man who sold the world"_

Ichiro trudged out at last, only for his foot to swing into a large box. Its surface was riddled with dents—a box that had seen better days. He glared at the offending object.

 _Why did I even bring you here?_ _Wasn't it because of you that Kagome got mad at me?_

Ichiro knelt down and ripped the box open. Inside laid a jumble of white plastic limbs, clothes, the scattered ends of a long wig. It was hard to discern what was what. Except for one . Kikyou's mannequin face, detached from its body, stared right back at him.

"You stayed with me for far too long, haven't you?" As if its dead eyes were capable of processing words, of understanding his feelings. "And what happened has miraculously cured me of my fixation. No more shrine maidens, I say."

Ichiro hoisted the box under his arm and went out of his apartment. Taking the stairs, he walked further to the field behind the condominium. There was a large metal bin there. Its purpose always puzzled him, until today. Standing in the middle of the field, the grass tickling his ankles, he finally understood.

He chucked the box inside and struck a match.

It was a large, voracious fire. Ichiro pulled on his shirt to fan himself from the unbearable heat. The black smoke billowed profusely into the open air from the bin’s mouth, the box disintegrating, the mannequin melting in its fiery wake. It left an awful, pungent smell.

Ichiro lowered on his haunches, watching the cinders rise and dance into the blue sky. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, for his bitter tears had slipped into his lips.

“Ichiro,” a female voice suddenly called out.

Startled, he peered uncertainly into the bin. Was the mannequin talking to him?

“Ichiro!”

Someone grabbed his shoulder. Ichiro turned in shock.

It was Kagome.

* * *

"So what are we waiting for?"

"I don't know. For the current of time to sweep us, I guess."

"If what you say is true—that there's really a crack in the timeline here…well now would be a good time to prove it."

"Steady, Miss Patience. I've been coming up here for the last twenty years waiting exactly for that to happen. And if it never has, ever again. Like I told you, something aligned that day. Maybe it was the stars or the planets—or some other celestial thing that occurred in another part of the galaxy. I just wish I knew as much."

"Maybe it was you, Ichiro. Maybe _you_ triggered it."

Ichiro gave Kagome a firm stare. She matched his look, her lips pursed in an adamant line. The same way she appeared at the field that afternoon. He had tracked his surroundings with a wary eye as they returned to his apartment.

“Don’t worry, Sesshoumaru’s not here,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “He’s currently outstationed.”

“You sure?”

“Unless he suddenly decides to drop in here in a jet plane, I wouldn’t know.”

“Gosh, why would you even make a joke like that?”

Blinking slowly as he made her tea, his mind pieced together her overlapping pitter-patter of sentences: _Drove for hours to come here, nice place you've upgraded, I see you’re sporting your old look again. Ah, by the way I heard from Amari about your new store chain, congratulations._

Kagome was chipper to a fault. At some point she must realized it herself, for her words would suddenly falter.

Ichiro had so many questions jostling in his brain. For one, what was happening? Two, did she read his letter? And three, was she still with _him_?

The only thing he caught on was the reason for her visit. Apparently she wanted to go to that magical spot in Yamanote Memorial Hill, again.

Before Ichiro knew it, he was trekking up the hill with a woman cursing in her shoes. What would compel Kagome to make the arduous trip all the way on such a hot Sunday afternoon? Someone must have stolen her marbles.

Exerting a hard sigh, Ichiro squinted to the bright, blinding sun.

"Did you say something?" Kagome panted behind him. She stopped to lean against a tree, clutching a hip.

"Yeah, I was asking if you need a lift?" Without waiting for her reply, he slid his backpack to his chest and crouched in position.

Kagome held a hesitant gaze on his back. "You mean ride piggy-back on you?"

"We both know you’re dying in your shoes. Plus it’s not safe to step in barefoot. I'll be minced meat if something happens to you. Come on, giddy-up."

"Okay," she said at last, only because her Louboutins were indeed killing her. When she slipped into them that morning, her mind wasn’t exactly in the best frame. "But be careful."

"Sure," Ichiro assured, lowering into a full squat. "World's safest piggy-back coming right up."

Their journey resumed. The summer breeze ruffled through their hair, cooling their napes. A small, but much-needed respite.

“This sure brings back memories," Kagome remarked to herself.

"Did a lot of piggy-back riding back in your day, huh."

"You could say that. Thanks Ichiro, you're a lifesaver."

"No problem. Just uh, help keep a look-out for me, will you?"

"You mean, for snakes?"

"No, worse than that. Like Sesshoumaru."

Kagome fell into silence behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ichiro, I haven't really apologized to you, have I? I was quite rude to you in our last meeting."

Ichiro frowned. “No, don't bother. It’s old news now.”

He turned his head to look at her, then wished he didn't. Kagome had met his gaze with a scarred, haunted look in her eyes.

Was she _really_ alright? Why did she suddenly seek him out to go up Yamanote Memorial Hill?

Suddenly she let out a cry and pointed up ahead. “I see it! The big camphor tree!”

He quickly released her. To his astonishment, she marched up to the hilltop within a few strides. Wasn’t she limping just a while ago?

"This is the one," Ichiro rushed after her. "This is the tree I sat under when I got whizzed back in time."

Kagome studied the camphor tree. She sized up its sheer height, its massive branches reaching towards the sky like outstretched hands. Her gaze swept across the sprawling view of the green hills surrounding them.

"So what are we waiting for?" she said.

Ichiro shrugged, a sleeve wiping his perspiring forehead. "I don't know. For the current of time to sweep us, I guess."

"You sure those mushrooms are edible?" Kagome later enquired with concern.

Ichiro had set up camp to rest, assembling a mess tin cook-set from his backpack. The said mushrooms had been crowding around the buttress roots of the camphor tree. Ichiro plucked and tore them apart into small pieces. They joined his meal, slowly cooking into a boil.

He smirked and stirred the noodles in the tin. "Well whaddaya know, for your information you're talking to a former boy scout."

Kagome smiled in reply as she received her share of hot noodles—a simple bowl of ramen swimming in broth. She looked at him to imagine the little boy scout in question. However a different picture greeted her instead.

Her smile faded. "I just couldn't understand why I didn't see it before."

"What?"

"That you were the spitting image of my old boyfriend."

Ichiro's eyes widened as she continued. "Everyone could see it except me. Why was I the oblivious one?"

"I must have put on a really good disguise." He chucked a few twigs into the fuel can. "Well, what was the lucky bloke like?"

Kagome gazed at the sky. A train of clouds, ambiguous in shape and wispy at the edges, ferried along quietly. She tried to conjure a familiar shape in them, a sort of animal. A dolphin, perhaps?

"He was a wild beast of a boy. Brave but reckless. Never conformed to the rules. Never belonged here or anywhere either. But he brought me joy with his warmth. For a short period of time, I _was_ the happiest girl in the world."

She chewed the mushrooms. "That's what they call puppy love, isn't it? So apt."

"Any chance he was Mister Piggy-Back?"

"Geez, don't call him that."

They shared a laugh.

 _And then I fell in love again_ , Kagome found her thoughts straying.

_For the second time, I felt like the happiest woman alive. I'd never met a man that could treat me the way Sesshoumaru did. He met all my needs, even the ones I didn't know I had. I felt utterly special. Life with him, once I surrendered myself, felt like a dream—a weightless dream._

“I'm sorry to probe," Ichiro spoke, interrupting her thoughts, "but was that person possibly my predecessor, the one Sesshoumaru mentioned?"

Kagome shot him a look. "What, what did Sesshoumaru tell you?"

"He said…they found his charred remains inside an orphanage."

Her chopsticks clattered into her bowl. "That's impossible. He had the fire-rat robe."

She seemed to mumble something to herself.

“Kagome?”

“Ichiro, I read your letter,” she then said.

He gaped. “And?”

“And what you said was right,” she murmured. “If only I had seen the signs. He covered his tracks so well.” Her face was ridden with guilt. “May I know, if he had hurt you in any way?”

Ichiro shrugged. “He could have killed me, that’s all I can say. But…”

“But?”

“He didn’t actually kill anyone, did he?”

Kagome didn’t dare to look at him.

Ichiro sprung up with a hop. “My god. You have to report him to the authorities!”

Her voice grew weaker. “It’s all my fault. I was the one who brought him here. I started this, and therefore I must end this myself.”

She had been trying to make amends, slowly. After Ichiro, there was one last person she needed to face…

Kagome raised her head and he saw her eyes, distraught and raw with terror. “Don’t worry, Ichiro. Sesshoumaru can’t hurt me. That’s his only weakness. He’s servile to whom his soul binds to.“

Ichiro raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on, but promise me you’ll be okay.”

She gave a crooked smile. “I’ll send you a letter once in awhile. You like letters, don’t you?”

A blush reddened his face. “By the way,” he mumbled, “you haven't exactly explained to me your sudden interest in time travel. Now that we're here, you should probably shed some light on your intentions."

Kagome leaned back on the tree. A bitter taste crept up from her stomach to the back of her throat. The clouds in her vision seemed to waver, the heat radiating in her ears. She could feel her perspiration beading at her temples.

"What if I told you that I wanted to change the past?"

"You can’t. Haven't you heard of the time-travel paradox?"

"Well…" she said, blinking slowly through her nausea, her eyes growing heavy, "I have to try something, right? Not like I've never done it before…"

_That's right. What am I doing here?_

_Do I really think I could change the past? To that fateful moment on the bridge? Is it something I regret?_

_Do I regret…_

_…meeting Sesshoumaru?_

Kagome found herself lulling, getting pulled into a lower plane of consciousness. The world seemed to darken at the edges. Then it lightened again, as though someone had drawn back the curtains.

It was too late, she realised. Her scenery had changed. Dreaming. Was she dreaming? She wasn't under the camphor tree with Ichiro anymore. What accompanied her was something else.

The melodic twang of a shamisen—a childish gurgle of laughter, a pair of hands clapping.

A numbing sensation of shock spread across her skull.

The wet, earthy breeze told her she was in Sengoku Jidai.

_**To be continued…** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, and welcome to the fourth arc of Binded, and if I stick to my draft, it's the last one. I told myself I would finish this story before my maternity leave ends, but what do you know, I have precisely 1 month left before work starts. I guess that's how it is, isn't it? I applaud anyone who can stick to their own personal deadlines. *cries to myself*
> 
> Reviews really make me happy so send them my way!


	29. Cracklines (Part 2)

_A/N: A re-read of **[Chapter 18: Chances Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281438/chapters/68467025)** is recommended, as there is a re-telling of its opening scene in this chapter._

# Cracklines (Part 2)

_Tonghae Satellite Launching Ground, North Korea_

_1630 Hours_

The man who was coincidentally Sesshoumaru’s driver, and therefore had all the reason to have a bottle of petrol in his car, stood at an arms’ length before the barbeque pit. The petrol poured from a hole on the cap, dousing all over the clams. In an instant a burst of fire erupted, invoking the merriment of the officials watching.

The winds carried over the burning smell of petrol, assaulting his nose. Sesshoumaru chose to remain as he sat at a makeshift table in the middle of the tarmac. He sipped on a glass of _soju_ , reserving his comments on the commotion before him.

His eyes tracked off. He imagined if one were to wander from the launching pad, they would discover the vast, blue Sea of Japan in the background, the August wind picking up its scent.

The only thing infringing on the view—and more conspicuous than the tactful laughter—was the towering, army-green pillar erected nearby. It stood at more than twelve metres tall, with a cordoned site at its foot. The sun reflected off its metallic surface and glared sharply into his eyes.

Except a pillar it was not.

With a sweaty smile, his host returned to clap on Sesshoumaru’s back. “Eat more!” he gestured to the spread of dishes. “Don’t mind me, I’m just curious,” he then tucked into his seat, grinning white teeth to his accomplice at his side.

Sesshoumaru remained indifferent, and merely supplied them with a subtle shrug. "And I am curious as to why you are curious."

"You must agree that our interest is not groundless," the accomplice said, leaning forward. His service cap was still on his head despite the scorching heat, his shaded gaze more guarded, his manner apprehensive. _Sung Chung-hee_ , the name tag on his military uniform read, above his superfluous collection of badges. _Righteous and dutiful_. A good name for a army general, if he wasn't corrupt.

"You have our deepest trust as our financial benefactor and we thank you for that—but tell me: What would spur a Japanese man to cross the sea and come support our cause?"

A smile spread across Sesshoumaru's face, and a small jolt rippled under Sung’s skin, although he did well to hide it. Sung had seen so much that he had reached that point in life where almost nothing could faze him. But then he saw that little flame, flickering in both of Sesshoumaru’s eyes, a dancing, living fire, and he wondered if he had really seen everything.

Sesshoumaru licked under his pointed teeth.

"You're mistaken. I do not support your cause," he replied. "Rather, I just want to watch the whole world engulfed in flames."

His host lurched back in surprise. He turned to look at the barbeque pit, the wind whipping its great fire.

“You mean like those clams over there?” he went.

“ _Exactly_ like those clams over there.”

* * *

The wet, earthy breeze told her she was back in Sengoku Jidai.

Kagome glanced down. Her school backpack laid in her lap. Then her eyes swept up and she saw her friends, gathered in a picnic; Miroku singing a folk tune as he strummed the shamisen leisurely, Sango playing the amused spectator as her hands clapped along. Shippou was drawing circles in the sand with Rin, whilst Jaken watched with a sneer.

A foot dangled above her peripheral vision. Her eyes swept up. Inuyasha was slumped on a tree branch, in a deep nap.

Everything was presented in a hazy, vague transition. She was there before in that familiar scene, as though she had indeed travelled back through time.

It was just five hundred years too far.

 _Flask_ , her mind urged her. _You need to fill up your flask._

As if moving on auto-pilot, Kagome removed her flask from her backpack. She embarked on a slow walk towards the brook.

She knew something was going to happen soon. But her knowledge was limited to that current time, her movements curated by predestination. She was only innately aware of her consciousness.

Then it came to her. Stealthily, giving rise to the cold prick of goosebumps on her nape, the churning discomfort in her guts. The taste smothered her like smoke burning in the woods. The taste of _youki_.

Sesshoumaru's _youki_.

Kagome carefully knelt at the edge of the bubbling stream.

 _Fill up your flask_ , her voice returned urgently. It seemed to appear from a different part of her mind. _Fill up your flask and go._

And yet, curious and brave, bold and naïve Kagome defied her voice and stole a peek at the beautiful creature, hidden among the thickets of red spider lilies.

It was like looking at something forbidden, something that shouldn't have existed in the first place. It was like looking at a ghost.

_Don't talk to him, Kagome. Don't look at him._

Kagome listened to her strange voice. She decided she would just finish what she came to do and leave as it was. After all, who would want to infringe on a demon lord's quiet retreat?

At last she capped the bottle and stood up, ready to go.

"Have you heard the legend of the red spider lily?"

Kagome froze in her steps. Sesshoumaru had spoken to her!

She looked over her shoulder tentatively. He stood by the edge of the little stream, his moon-dusted hair shimmering even under the dark shade of the trees, the spokes of his armour glinting steel-sharp.

That was his voice, wasn't it? He always spoke in the deepest and quietest of tones, her ears but a pebble skimming over a deep lake.

Kagome was charmed by the notion that a great _daiyoukai_ would initiate a conversation with her.

"Of course I've heard," she replied, a cheerful smile spreading. “If we see someone along a path of spider lilies, chances are we'll never meet again." She paused, wondering. "Do you believe in it?"

She swore she heard him laugh, and it sounded like a dog's bark. "What a frivolous sentiment," he said. His pale, lithe finger coiled around the stalk of a flower.

Kagome twisted the corner of her mouth. Why would he enquire something only to deride and dismiss it afterwards? She did a little huff and turned back.

"Well it's just a legend, so it's up to you to believe or not…" and then a little thought came to her, one that had her stopping in her tracks. She found herself looking at him again. His finger was still wrapped around the lily's stem, rice-paper white against crimson red.

_Stop there. Don’t pluck it._

"And if we go along with that sentiment," Kagome murmured, "I suppose this may be our last meeting."

They were heading towards their enemy's lair. If the legend was fulfilled true, it would mean one of them didn't make it. Or worse— _neither_ of them did.

Sesshoumaru moved. Suddenly she found a riveting pair of eyes meeting her own, as bright as they ran cold, as entrancing as they spelled dangerous. Her heart thumped, her feet transfixed.

"And is that something you wish?" Sesshoumaru asked.

_No. Turn away and run. Do not say it._

Kagome hugged her flask to her body. "I hope not. Gee, I do hope we meet each other again. I mean..."

_Do not say it!_

"...I pray for it."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru replied as he plucked the flower. He cast it with a fleeting gaze before his fingers flicked it into the air. Kagome watched as it danced for a moment, before falling into the gushing river, swept away by the current, never to be seen again.

"Your optimism is admirable. May the gods…"

_Wake up!_

_Wake up, Kagome!_

_"...hear your prayer."_

Her reality caved in, her vision sucking into darkness once more. It felt as though her soul had traversed out of her body, then slammed back in, jarring her flesh and bones. Kagome gasped with a strangle of air, her face shaking from the shock.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Kagome, are you alright?"

It was Ichiro's voice.

An uncontrollable sob broke from her lips, and then a hot flush of tears, as she wrestled in an overwhelming glut of emotions. "A bad dream,” she said, “I just had a bad dream, that's all."

"Gosh," he said. "You barely took a five-minute nap. Let’s head back, shall we?"

As they were packing up, a small, high-pitched whine intrigued them from nowhere. To their surprise, a stray dog burst out from the nearby thickets. A small puppy, actually. Its tail wagged excitedly as it barked at Kagome’s feet. She picked it up, and it licked the strange expression off her face.

“Woah, where did that dog come from?” Ichiro asked, looking around.

“Is there a way we can bring it home?” she asked.

“You sure? But its family might be here.”

“I’m very sure, Ichiro.”

Awhile later as they were descending down the hill, a puppy in her arms—and him having concluded that she was no longer the same person he fell in love with in the Family Mart supermarket, the memory of egg-washed fingers, entwined together on a cold floor, once distinct but now clotted with dust—Kagome struck Ichiro with an odd question.

"I told you nothing was gonna come out of it," he was saying. "Sorry for the wasted trip."

"Ichiro," she said. "When you were eight and you were stuck under that tree with a sprained ankle… Did you by any chance eat those mushrooms?"

He replied with a bewildered look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

With a duplicate key that she had kept secret, Kagome entered into her old house. It was barren and empty, looking the exact way it was when they had left it. She didn’t bother switching on the lights; she didn’t want to awake the little _zashiki warishi_ sleeping inside. Also, it was still summer, so the ghastly bathroom-licker that once spooked her was probably in there too.

She headed straight to the backyard. Her eyes searched for the small shovel, the one she used for times like this, except that it had been a long time since then. So long in fact that cobwebs strung along when she took the shovel, and set to dig into the soil at the far corner.

 _“_ Bone powder, dirt, sandalwood and lime, a dash of frankincense and a drop of blood among other things. The ingredients for his binding ritual,” she told herself. _“_ If he drinks it again, he will stop this passage of madness. He has to!”

An owl hooted somewhere outside the house, spreading its wide wings into the night, and the crickets rang back in the still night air. The ground had grown compact and stiff from neglect. Kagome stabbed the shovel into the soil, heaving clumps over her shoulder. As her exasperation mounted, she dropped to her knees, ravaging through the soil with her fingers. Her nails were caked with dirt, her clothes ruined. She did not stop.

_The bones! The bones...they’re not here! It can’t be!_

Kagome stilled in her realization, her blood surging cold in her body. She looked up to the full moon, as it watched her in the spoils of her mess.

 _What happens now, Kagome?_ it seemed to question her.

Kagome shivered. She did not want to think about it.

* * *

The sound of thunder and the cold draught whipped into the room, awakening her in a restless stir. She didn't know which was worse—that the windows had been left open in the storm, or that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She moved just a little, and a dull ache shot throughout her body.

A deep murmur came beside her. At first she thought it was the chattering wind, until she discovered the broad hand, pale with lithe fingers and fine claws stroking her feet.

Kagome jolted awake, invoking the name of everything holy and divine.

“What in seven hells are you doing?” she snapped. “And you didn't shut the windows."

Sesshoumaru lifted his gaze. "Believe me, I was about to. Until I saw you sprawled on the couch—thinly-dressed, your pulse on your skin beating so beckoningly— and my old heart got distracted."

A sharp glint played where his lips carried a shadow of a smile.

Kagome raised her head, fixing him with an incredulous stare. "Wait. You’re not supposed to be here."

“That’s true. I’m currently in a not so pleasant hotel in Pyongyang as we speak.”

She looked around her dark living room, confounded, where her furniture seemed to hover and levitate, growing formless. It took her a while to realize that none of this was real.

“Tell me the truth,” Kagome said. “You disposed of the dog's bones in our old backyard, didn't you?”

“And _you_ visited the Ichiro boy earlier today, with a horrible agenda in your mind.” His long fingers trailed up along her bare leg. "I suppose we both have our vices at the end of the day. But it's alright, I forgive you. I'm merciful in that way."

Kagome bit her curling lip, before a soft laugh exhaled from her.

"A dog," she said. "In what laws of the world do you sacrifice a dog's body in exchange for one with a human likeness?"

She answered her own question. "When you make a pact with Inugami apparently. The dark god of course takes more than he gives. And I wondered. Wondered why you never completely shed your canine tendencies." She sighed as she closed her eyes. "You were such a good dog in the beginning, too."

"I see. Were you planning to feed me through the bowl again?" Sesshoumaru asked, his tone slightly wary, but mostly weary.

Kagome nodded. "Yes. That was one of my first mistakes. Unraveling your leash. Letting you ingest my blood directly."

"As a result I became bolder."

"And a little insolent too, don't forget."

"You could have fought with resistance," he argued, in the softest defiant way possible. "I would have let you win."

"But where's the fun in that? I suppose, deep inside my mischievous heart I wanted to know how far you would go."

"And we went very far indeed."

"Yes," Kagome said, looking at him in his eyes now. "Very far."

" _Do you...regret?_ " he then asked.

She never answered him.

His touch lingered on her skin.

"Look at you. You must have been so exhausted that you fell asleep here. Tell me, how badly does your feet ache?" His caresses continued, his soft strokes across her soles brimming with intent, sly.

He held one foot gently in his palm, and kissed her . She watched with unblinking eyes, her breath stalled. Gentle and tender. _Pleasurable_. His entrancing eyes never left hers.

A clashing culmination of senses rose within her—the loud patter of rain dulling the sound of her labored breaths, the cold wind tempering her rising heat as his hands grew bolder, trespassing further up her ankles, sweeping past her calves, and then into her quivering thighs—his lips were whispering wicked witchcraft into her skin, teeth scraping as he spelled, and how her blood danced and _reveled_ in his devilry. She was defenceless against him.

" _I miss you_ ," her words came in a fervent whisper.

His lips stilled. And then softly, " _I miss you too, Kagome_."

And then the words that they let fall in between:

_I miss you, in every waking moment. I think about you, in every single thing that I do._

"Bear with me for awhile," he said. "I’m gathering the pieces of the life I left behind. In no time will I join you and we will return to our normal lives, to each to other. After all, we’re soulmates, no?"

"That’s right," she whispered.

He sighed, his face edging towards hers, “And my loyalty...will never waver.”

Sesshoumaru kissed her lips. And she let him. Like a dream within a dream, even it was for a breathless, passing moment, the world was faultless and the repercussions empty. Their lives could both be lived without regrets.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Petrol clams are a legit thing in North Korea. Meanwhile...


	30. Sing for Absolution

# Sing for Absolution

“And it has been decided,” Jyohaku continued with the announcement, a handkerchief patting on his flushed face, “that this place will undergo an organizational change, onwards with my coming retirement. Going along, I will also announce that I will be relinquishing my family ties to the shrine. In the future, Yukino Shrine will no longer be managed by the Jyohaku family.”

At the table sitting a few seats away, the head of the shrine committee who had chaired the staff meeting along with a few key members, nodded agreeably.

“The date hasn't been stipulated yet,” the wizened, old man said, “but it will be very soon."

Caught startled by the sudden news, Amari and Kouhei could only gape at each other in silence.

“You're going to retire? _So soon?_ ” Amari finally spoke, her voice tight with emotion.

“Who's going to take over the shrine when you're not here?” Kouhei leaned forward, extremely concerned.

The old man cleared his throat. “Why, the shrine committee, of course.”

The sharp sound of a dragging chair interrupted the table. Kagome stood up abruptly, her long bangs rendering her eyes inscrutable. Without a word she strode out and left the room and everyone, stunned.

The men from the committee exchanged glances amongst themselves. “ _Rude_ ,” they muttered under their breaths. “ _Never liked her from the beginning_.”

Jyohaku was silent, covering the grim line between his lips.

Kouhei frowned. He had noted that the priest was looking progressively unwell over a period of time, and put two and two together.

“Did you discuss this matter with Kagome-sama beforehand?” he asked.

“This is my first time airing my decision to all of you,” Jyohaku answered. “After consulting the committee, of course.”

“But she's your right hand. You should have given her the memo first.”

“Jyohaku-sama, shouldn't you go after her?” Amari piped.

“What? Don't be ridiculous,” one committee member interjected. “She choose to leave prematurely. Pay no heed to her.”

Jyohaku exhaled a weary breath, his face twice as red from before. He murmured something under his handkerchief as he stood up heavily.

“Don’t tell me you’re going after her,” the old man called out in disbelief.

His eyes remained insipid at the door. “My subordinate needs me,” he said at length.

* * *

Using a wooden bucket Kagome splashed herself with the water from the waterfall. Her white robe and red culottes were drenched to the bone, and they clung to her like a cold lizard’s skin. She shut her eyes, her teeth chattering as she braved through another onslaught of her ritual bath.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she saw at the corner of her blurry vision a tall dark figure coming from the woods. Kagome flung the bucket towards its direction as hard as she could.

Jyohaku caught the bucket in a surprisingly nimble reflex right before it hit his head.

"You just can't wait for me to die, can you?"

Her legs started upon seeing him. Before she knew it, Kagome found herself cowering into the rock shelter behind the waterfall. A wide curtain of river-water streamed before her, sealing her off from the outside world. It was dark and dank in that little space, where it smelled of moss and decaying matter.

She bristled in her spot when Jyohaku pierced through the curtain, the water droplets dripping from his hair onto his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” Kagome folded her arms tightly, refusing to look at his face. "It's a long trek from the shrine. You’re risking your health."

"You're one to speak. Last time I checked, someone bailed out in the middle of an important meeting." He assessed their rock-walled surroundings with a critical eye. "This is an isolated area. If you slip and fall, no one would know for days."

Her teeth gritted as her hands balled into a fist.

“You idiot!” Kagome flared, facing him at last. “Why did you do that? Why did you choose to surrender the shrine?” She shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. “Your family legacy will end at its twelve generation. And you're alright with that?”

Jyohaku stared at the veil of water, his hands tucked behind his back. “Does it matter what I feel? Maybe it's time this archaic way of running things end.”

“I refuse to believe that. I _refuse_ to believe that you feel nothing!”

Suddenly he turned and caught her by her shoulders. “And who are you?” he snarled into her face. “What makes you think you know exactly what's inside of me?”

Her heart almost dropped when her back hit the wall, as she tried to register the smouldering anger in Jyohaku’s eyes.

“I know you're still mad at me for rejecting your proposal,” Kagome stammered.

“You were my only hope,” he murmured. “Just when I thought I could depend on you the most, you chose to abandon me.”

“Nonsense,” she argued, trying to shrug herself free. “If all you wanted was an heir, you could have married anyone else! I would have taken your child under my wing.”

Jyohaku shook her again despite her cries, his scowling face dangerously close before hers.

“It’s _you_ , do you understand? It’s you or nobody else!”

His grip loosened, and he withdrew a quiet gasp. His own desperate words had surprised himself more than anyone else.

And was it truly his professional opinion—or was he being influenced by something else?

His eyes lowered. The water had made her white robe translucent, her slender silhouette vividly defined under her clinging clothes. Her dark hair was plastered by her glistening neck; her chest heaving from her frantic pulse.

Everything about her was maddeningly beckoning, just like how she had pulled him into this place. His nose flared as he felt that shameful stirring come alive.

 _It’s like that night from the bar all over again,_ his thoughts construed. _The way she entices me—it’s almost like I’m bewitched. And I can smell her fragrance, despite the musty odours around us._

It was breath-taking in every sense of the word, her scent gripping him around his neck like a noose. A man could bathe and drown in it. A man could _die_ in it.

Kagome warily raised her head. Jyohaku had gone strangely silent. She peered up, only to witness him penetrate her with his stare, his dark eyebrows framing his harsh eyes, and her insides shriveled and shuddered in response. For the first time in her life, she actually felt _scared_ of him.

She remembered the last time they had been alone, and how it ended. In a fit of anger he had thrown a bowl, scarcely missing her face.

 _Is that it?_ Her heart palpitated with fear. _Does he want to hurt me?_

His grasp finally dropped much to Kagome's relief. He averted his gaze from her, heading out.

"I didn't come here to argue with you," he spoke, his tone curt but subdued. “Go and change. I'll wait outside.”

* * *

After awhile Kagome appeared, fitted in a dry set of clothes, her hair wrung out and slung down her back. She walked carefully on the smooth water-eroded rocks, barefoot. Jyohaku was by the river, vigorously washing his face.

She stood there with her basket of wet clothes, watching his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m horribly aware that I've been coarse to you lately.” He paused to collect his words, staring into his reflection in the water. “There is no excuse for my behavior. I'm not surprised if you find me more repulsive than before.”

Kagome looked ahead. She saw nothing but deep wilderness around them, her eyes almost expecting an antlered deer to trot out from the foliage. Maybe only three months ago she would have appreciated this view, and marveled at the sheer magnanimity of nature as a humble bystander. But not anymore. Everything looked bleak around her, washed in black and white.

The way the river rushed rapidly over the rocks and under the fallen, rotting trunks, following through its course without a single worry in the world. Kagome _envied_ the river.

She swallowed. "How are you coping with everything?"

Jyohaku shook his head. “I have never been so overwhelmed. Time is not on my side, and I’m forced to make drastic decisions. The situation debilitates me more than my sickness. I had to do what I had to do.”

He stood and turned to look at her. “Please, I know you’re not fond of the committee. But try to get along with them, alright? I can't defend you in my absence.”

Her chin lifted, defiant. “I won’t promise I’d be a good girl.”

Then the wind came. Stealthy and surreptitious. The same wind that had accompanied her when she saw Hana at the bottom of the stairs. The same wind that observed her dig an empty grave last night.

She closed her eyes as it spelled audible words into her ears. _Could you?_ it whispered.

_Could you look at him in the eye knowing you're partly responsible for his predicament?_

Kagome stared into the towering cluster of elm trees in the woods, searching for something in there, a little clue or a sign. She found her lips forming words on their own.

"Narumi. Are there _sins_ that can't be forgiven?"

Jyohaku regarded her in surprise, before mulling over his thoughts. "I don't believe in that. What I believe is if you're sincere, the gods will be all-merciful."

"I want to be forgiven. I'll cleanse myself everyday, for as long as I have to until the rest of my life."

His frown deepened. "But why? What sins plague you, exactly?"

In reply she merely smiled to herself. It was her most bitter one yet. Jyohaku could see her heart wrenching in her eyes.

"On second thought, hold your words," he said. "Just as you're discouraged from revealing the shortcomings of others, you're not obliged to confess your own. The benevolent gods however will listen to you if you're repentant."

He pulled out his rosary from his pocket, the one made of linden wood to ward against evil spirits. "But who am I to say? Even someone like me will question them from time to time. And I'm in a situation where I'm being severely tested."

He passed it into her small palm. "Take this with you. Maybe you don't have evil spirits to dispel, but it will protect you from your bad thoughts."

Kagome gripped the rosary. She strained against herself as the wind came again, spitting viciously its venom.

_Shameless, wallowing in your self-pity and your private sins… How do you live your days, while this man is counting his?_

_I want to die too_ , she breathed.

_No. You can't die. You must take responsibility. You need to amend your mistakes and accept your punishment._

_You need to atone for your sins._

_"_ Hang yourself _,”_ Jyohaku suddenly said beside her. She stabbed him with an bewildered look.

He continued. “If you hang yourself, you will regret it; if you do not hang yourself, you will regret it; if you hang yourself or you do not hang yourself, you will regret both; whether you hang yourself or you do not hang yourself, you will regret both.”

“What the hell is that?” she said, perturbed.

“The sum of all practical wisdom,” Jyohaku answered with a slight wink, before ambling off. “Kierkegaard. Remember that name.”

Kagome blinked, and thumbed the beads in her hand.

Her thoughts carried her back to that night, when Jyohaku was there for her once when she needed someone’s shoulder to cry on. It was a short instance, clumsy and made cloudy with drink, and the ambiguous manner they had parted ways. She had carefully protected it in her memory, wrapped it in waxy leaves.

No, not once. Jyohaku's door was always closed but it was never locked. In her carefree days she would help herself in with her lopsided grin, and he would send his most disdainful frown. But he never pushed her out when she asked for his advice. He was always there, grudgingly so, but there.

Her eyes roved around her. The blue cloudless sky. The dark woods. The loud crashing of the gushing falls, like a never-ending rainstorm. The quiet bubbling river that followed after. She would imprint this moment in her memory, wrap everything in her waxen leaves.

And then she looked up and finally saw it. High on the long wooden trunks of the elm trees—her new resolve carved for her in the bark by bloodied talons. Kagome read the words slowly.

"I will be the next head of Yukino-jingu."

Jyohaku stopped in his tracks.

" _What?_ "

Then a cynical laugh burst from him. “I see, "he said. "You’re doing that again, aren’t you? Treating everything like a joke. Well I’m telling you now, I don't find this the least bit funny.”

Kagome turned. Her eyes were startlingly cold, its colours running deeper than usual, clutching him through her sheer gaze alone. Even the tone of her voice had changed.

“I'll do everything I have to. Get married. Carry your heir. And raise the child to be the next successor of the shrine—I will bear the responsibility."

She added. "In return, you will seek help for your sickness. I will not allow you to give up."

To embrace everything that came along so the gods could grant her absolution. Kagome would have to embrace _every single thing_.

Thus was the punishment she had set for herself.

“My god,” Jyohaku whispered, his hand quivering as he retrieved his handkerchief. He wiped his face, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re dead serious, aren’t you?”

* * *

“I don’t understand, Kagome. You know that date is your grandfather’s death anniversary. We have never missed visiting his grave. Why would you catch us off-guard with this news? And who is this man you’re marrying?”

Kagome looked through her window, her phone by her ear. Her mother, usually calm and tolerant, was distressed over the line. When was the last time she spoke to her like that? That censuring tone usually used with her brother was now cast towards her.

A series of loud whines, and a persistent scratching filtered out somewhere. Kagome momentarily glanced at her closed door.

“Can’t you—can’t you change the date?” her mother pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Mama. The decision wasn’t made by me alone,” Kagome said, almost ashamed. She didn't know how to face her mother at this point. “As for my future partner, he’s a good man so don’t worry about things like that.”

Her mother gave a long pause. Kagome somehow already knew her answer.

“I’m sorry, Kagome. I don’t think we can make that trip in such a short notice. I’ll give you my blessings from here.”

“Mama…”

“Souta will be mad once he knows. This weekend. Your wedding is this weekend. Kagome—you’re not in some unfavourable situation, are you?”

“No, Mama. It’s not what you think.”

The call ended soon after. The whines and the scratching behind her bedroom door had grown wildly frustrated. Kagome opened the door, whereupon the stray puppy that she brought home from the park leapt at her feet.

She collected it into her arms. It was a white mongrel, most probably the offspring of an abandoned hunting dog. A restless creature she discovered, never able to stay put in its spot and afraid to sleep alone.

She raised the puppy before her, and looked into its large, beady eyes.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she said.

* * *

The plane had touched down fifteen minutes ago. It was silent in the cabin, where most of the passengers had left, save for the soft jingle in the speakers. Sesshoumaru was still buckled in his seat, looking at his mobile phone. The message had arrived when the signals returned.

It was a wedding invitation. He kept staring at it, not knowing how to respond, or the right emotion to react—and if he should reply. He stayed stiff like that for a long time, like a marble statue in mid-pose.

“Sir, is everything alright?”

He glanced up. A blonde stewardess in a navy-blue uniform smiled at him, a hand on the seat.

“Could you allow me five minutes?” Sesshoumaru said. “I need some time to process a message.”

“Oh dear. Could it be a piece of distressing news?”

His lips pursed. Part of him wanted to share the invitation with her, ask her how she felt about it.

“I suppose,” he replied, “depending on the point of view.”

The stewardess smiled again, this time empathetic. “I can give you five minutes, but not more than that, okay? Is this your first trip to Frankfurt, sir?” she then asked.

“Yes, it is.”

“May I recommend you a walk through the old town of Limburg? It sits on the banks of the Lahn River, and is incredibly scenic. I go there sometimes when I need a peace of mind.”

“Thank you. I will go there if I have time.”

“I bid you farewell then. _Auf wiedersehen_.”

“ _Auf wiedersehen_ to you too _.”_

_**To be continued…** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 4 is where I made a lot of changes to the plot, and it will stray from my first version. The ending still stays the same, I guess? It should end in about five chapters or thereabouts. Yep, that close.
> 
> Anyway I thought Sesshoumaru was incredibly nice in this chapter! Me wants a German-speaking Sess! Can I be the stewardess? "Guten tag! Es geht mir gut!" *dishes the basic German I learnt in school* Okay we all know he wasn't being nice. He was heart-broken. =(
> 
> This chapter will also stay as one of my Top 5 favourites, because of the waterfall scene. Props to Jyohaku for trying so hard to stay sane for the last 30 chapters lmao. At the same time, I don't mind being cornered by him in an enclosed space... I mean... Yeah, yeah I know. Make up your mind, Lucy.


	31. Strangers in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if it was clear before, but Kagome’s first house belonged to Jyohaku’s mother, who was a miko who later married his father.
> 
> Also, welcome to another happy chapter of Binded! What, two updates in a week? I’m on a roll before work starts!
> 
> There will be a few triggers in this one, like mentions of Nazism and Hitler per se, as well as depressing sex (lol whut).

# Strangers in the Night

The sound of applause reverberated in the large theatre, as the curtains drew at the end of the first act. An intermission was announced in German, and the audience began to shift from their seats. Sesshoumaru stayed in his.

The man beside him uncrossed his legs, crossed them again then cleared his throat. His hands interlocked, resting on his stomach. Both men stared at the closed stage quietly, waiting for the second act of Wagner's Lohengrin to begin.

"You know about a hundred years ago, a wee lad, only twelve years old, attended his first live performance of Lohengrin," the man spoke. "It wasn't a very good seat either, in fact he had a standing ticket. But he was enraptured nevertheless, captivated by Wagner's opera. You could even say he fell in love for the first time. Wagner's music had opened his eyes to another world; the possibility of _creating_ another world. Do you happen to know who this young boy might be?"

Sesshoumaru replied without a blink. "Adolf Hitler."

The man turned to smile at him. "Wonderful, I see you're well-versed in our history." He extended his hand. "Finally we meet, Herr Sesshoumaru."

Sesshoumaru shook his hand. "Likewise. Herr Gunther."

"We have so many things to talk about, don't we, Herr Sesshoumaru? I've heard countless tales about you in our circles, and I would like to dispel which are myths, and which are not. You've gained quite the reputation."

Sesshoumaru lightly snorted. "That was not my intention. Dispel me all you like, but after this performance."

"Of course, _right_ after this performance."

And then moments later the curtain drew again to the resounding orchestra playing, the whole theatre riveted in its sweeping grandiosity, and still Sesshoumaru found himself unable to feel captivated, for his mind was miles away.

~* .*. *~

It was a small traditional ceremony at the shrine where the guest list was exclusive to only the immediate family members and the shrine committee.

Kouhei was feeling nonplussed that day, even offended if he was honest. To be told of the wedding only one week prior felt almost like a slap on the face. And here he thought they were family. He could understand neither the rush, nor why the planning had been kept under wraps. The news had also come with the announcement that the head priest was retracting his decision to relinquish his family ties.

Is it... _that_ kind of wedding? he figured unconvincingly to himself. Looking at the bride however sitting all graceful and poised on the platform, he immediately withdrew his embarrassing thoughts.

Kagome was anything but ethereal in her white wedding robes, red-rimmed, her face partially covered by her _wataboshi_ head-dress. Beside her sat Jyohaku, dressed in a formal black kimono, his cheekbones as rigid as the expression in his eyes.

Kouhei glanced at Amari, who was sitting quietly beside him amidst the guests.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you alright?”

Amari chewed her lip before meeting his eyes. “Strangely I am. I’m shocked like everyone else, of course _._ But at the same time I kinda saw it coming in one way or another.” She breathed a laugh, shrugging. “I don’t know how else to explain it. They've always been oddly close despite constantly tearing at each other's throats. And I used to be so envious.”

“You’re too kind, Amari,” Kouhei said, squeezing her hand.

“I’m really alright, Kouhei. Geez, let me cry, will you?” she said, wiping her tears.

Kouhei then groaned. “Man, what really happened to her and Sesshoumaru? You know I was all about their relationship. I swear they were the legitimate, power couple. One look at them and you’d think they were ready to take on the world.”

“I really hope he’s feeling well, wherever he is.”

“I do too, I do.”

They both sighed aloud.

“The sex tonight is going to be sooo awkward…”

She slapped his knee. “Kouhei!” Her hand clasped over his laughing mouth. “No seriously, shut it. Can’t you hear what they’re saying?”

She was referring to the committee members in the row in front of them, with their cups of _sake_. Amari and Kouhei trained their ears to get a good grasp of their gossip.

“I can understand why Jyohaku would choose her as his wife. She’s still young and quite the looker—a class above all the women we'd picked for him. But..." The old man twirled his beard and peered at his peers for their support. "To confer her as his replacement is _another thing_ altogether. He didn’t even try to listen to us. It's one thing to be a priestess, but to be a shrine head—"

The rest of them began to shoot their aligned sentiments in a bubble of voices.

"The proper procedure would be to choose someone from the committee as a stand-in, while his heir is being groomed! _She_ barely became a priestess a year ago!"

"Jyohaku has always been rebellious, but this is too much—"

"Getting swayed by a woman like that, Yukino-jingu is _rocked_ by a pure scandal—"

"How dare you!" Amari suddenly stood and cried, much to Kouhei’s astonishment. "Kagome-sama is very much capable! Jyohaku-sama chose her because he believed in her strengths!"

At the other end of the floor, Kagome's eyebrows knitted finely under her large head-dress.

“My goodness, what is that commotion at the back?”

“Is that Kirihata’s voice?” Jyohaku squinted. They glanced at each other, completely boggled.

Suddenly a figure flitted before them. Jyohaku smiled, leaning in towards Kagome.

“Kagome, meet my younger sister, Kayo. She's my only surviving family from Tohoku.”

Kagome lifted her head. A woman was bending before her with a wide, pleasant smile. She had a grey film over her eyes. Jyohaku's sister was blind.

Kagome smiled warmly and touched her arm. Kayo gave her a tight embrace.

"Welcome to our family, Kagome," she said. She kissed Kagome's cheek and expressed mild surprise. "My, you smell just like pears. Do you know they were my brother’s favorite fruit when he was a child?"

Kagome sat stock-still after Kayo had left.

"Narumi," she called, her voice tight under her breath. "Your sister says I smell like pears."

"I knew it," Jyohaku exclaimed quietly. "I've been trying to figure it out for some time. Trust my sister to have a keen sense of smell."

A part of Kagome shattered into smithereens, like broken glass.

* * *

The tap ran continuously into the wooden bathtub. She had scrubbed herself sore to get rid of her scent, her skin tingling where the warm water touched her. She retched, her stomach lurching as her mind narrowed on the obscene amount of fruit she had consumed over the past few weeks, or to be precise, the amount _Sesshoumaru_ had fed her.

Kagome wondered what was the longest possible time one could stay in the bath without inviting suspicion. She was submerged in both the soapy water and in her thoughts, never feeling clean enough, the impulse to just stay under permanently now looking agreeable—when she felt the base of the tub thrum to a low beat.

There was a sense of of déjà vu, from the way the beats vibrated from the wooden planks and into her body.

Slowly Kagome grabbed the edge of the tub with a wet hand and pulled herself up.

Jyohaku was leaning against the wall by the phonograph, and he was still in his bathrobe, his damp, wavy hair brushed back, a glass in his hand.

She strode into his room. “You brought home the phonograph from your mother’s house.”

“Yes. I thought she would like you to have it.”

She then watched the vinyl disc spin under the needle as Frank Sinatra crooned, a sight that never failed to mesmerize her.

" _Strangers in the Night_ ,” she remarked. “A fitting song, or one to mock our situation?"

"You decide. Thought I set up the mood for our…" He drank slowly from his glass, "... _successor-making sessions_."

"And you had to give that mediocrity a name?"

"I had a lot of free time to think about it, so, yes."

Kagome raised an eyebrow to his glass. Without a thought she then stole his drink, took a sip then regretted instantly.

"Ugh!" she retched in disgust. "What is this?"

"Bénédictine with milk. A nightcap—makes for good sleep," Jyohaku answered, amused. "Of course, it also dulls away my pain like a charm. And I foresee I’m going to be in a lot of pain later on."

Kagome ran her exasperated fingers through her hair. "Good god, Narumi. You’re supposed to stay away from alcohol. And don’t you have painkillers for that?"

His mouth twisted, and his voice turned snappish. “Fine. So I was just looking for an excuse to get drunk. _You_ should too. Not like you can deal with me sober anyway.”

She cornered him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

Jyohaku shrugged, looking elsewhere. “I mean. You’re different when you’re drunk. Like— _clingy different_. I was even thinking you liked me more when you’re inebriated.”

A mortified blush suffused her face. “Are you talking about the night at the bar?”

“Or more accurately, what happened _after_.” He placed his drink on the mantelpiece. “Ask your butler. He literally had to _pry_ you off me.”

Kagome’s anger continued to simmer, a quiet rage boiling up to her neck.

“Anyway,” he said again, peering at her quizzically. “Are you wearing that for bed?”

He was referring to her heavily embroidered, red kimono. Made of expensive silk damask, she too had been staggered when she uncovered its box.

“It was one of the wedding gifts we received.” She gave him the side eye. “You don't like it?”

His fingers tried to stifle a laugh. “It looks too—how do I say it—ornate? If I may be blunt, you’re dressed like a village sacrifice.”

"That may so be it.” She smirked, her eyes trained to him in a dark gaze. “After all, I see the gods in you, Narumi.”

Kagome took a step back, as her hands removed her obi _belt_ , her dress unravelling.

“Why don't you claim your offering now? I was just struck by an epiphany, where I’ve learnt to look at our bodies in a different way. Your body is not your body, Narumi. Just as my body is not mine. In the pursuit of procreation you’re just a tool and I, a mere vessel.”

Jyohaku wrapped her clothes around her before they could land on her feet.

“What stunt are you trying to pull now?” he blew. “Kagome, do you enjoy making me mad that much?”

She raised her chin high, although it only served to expose the rapid pulse on her throat.

"I have a confession. I get my kicks from provoking you." She ground her jaw in her impudent manner. "Your punishment…is what I crave the most."

"I see. Is that you really want?"

His features were so twisted, she almost couldn't recognize his scowl. Kagome bit through her gasp as he turned her body and pushed her to the wall, her wrists locked behind her in a single grip.

"So you want to get punished, Higurashi?" Jyohaku growled at her ear, his voice soft but menacing, sending a traitorous stirring within her.

"Yes…" Her reply dragged from her throat before she could stop herself. "Please punish me, Jyohaku-sama. For all my mistakes, for all my transgressions..."

She fell backwards on the futon spread out in the middle of the room.

The song changed in the air. With a damning realization, a familiar tune began to play. The opening piano strains of _Chances Are_ alluded to Kagome’s memory, when she danced with Sesshoumaru under the moonlight. The heavens must be mocking her up above.

_No, not this song. Not when I'm about to…_

Jyohaku crawled before her. Kagome rose to watch, transfixed with terror, and yet a part of her was rife with anticipation.

"I was wondering how I could do this…" he met her face, "...and still stay _sane_ with you. And then I realized, why not just _fall_ into that dark, spiraling abyss and…"

"...drag me along," Kagome rasped, as his hands grasped her jaw, pressing across her cheeks, "You want to drag me along into your special hell."

"We'd make such a great pair, don't you think?" He was restraining the maddening urge to graze his lips upon hers.

He let her head fall on the pillow, and she seethed back at him.

His gaze burning upon her indignance, he then deftly threw her robe open, his hand smoothing down the slender shape of her hip. Her warm flesh scorched his hand, and he almost pulled away at the sensation; almost wept at the sheer depravity of it all.

His hand wandered further between her thighs, where her slickness surprised him. He studied his glistening fingers in the dark, and carefully brought them to taste.

He hissed under his breath.

"Taste yourself," he urged, the trembling tips of his fingers brushing across her parted lips, "Never have I been with a woman…with such an exquisite flavour as yours."

Kagome closed her eyes, her breath snagging as the distinctive taste swept across her tongue.

"And so, do you approve of it?" she heard herself ask.

He nodded, his eyebrows strung in a pained expression.

She smiled. "It's almost as if I was made for you, isn't it?"

Her words struck him deep. He could feel them sharp in his guts, where they throbbed in his spoiled flesh, coursing through his infected blood. Jyohaku gasped and bowed over her, completely undone and helpless.

 _Kill me right now_ , his soul beseeched in pure agony. _Just kill me right now, like this._

When the pain ebbed away, though not completely gone, his mouth sought for her ear.

"I don't believe in things like destiny or soulmates. But for just one moment," his voice strained in a husky murmur. "For just one moment, I would like to believe that you _were_ made for me."

Seizing her chance Kagome pushed his shoulders, causing him to roll and land on his back in surprise. She straddled on his hips, and her eyes that greeted him were empty, and hollow.

“Why don’t you relax, Narumi? Let me take care of you now.”

When it was over, and it was as joyless and excruciating as it could be for the both of them, she fell and perished beside him, or at least, _wished_ she perished. It was an arduous journey for them both, fumbling in the dark, of which there was only one ultimate conclusion to reach—his—and throughout it he wondered how his body could be merged with someone else's, and yet still feel utterly bereft and lonely.

* * *

_'You bastard. You groomed my body with your fucking pears.'_

Once again, another cryptic message. Sesshoumaru read the screen, his flat eyes running over her words again and again. He wanted to laugh at first, then realized it was not intended in humour.

Tossing the phone, he laid his body on the bed to rest.

His palm roamed slowly across his body. It stopped right over his beating heart.

"It hurts…" he spoke with uncertainty to himself. "It hurts…right here."

He stared at the white-washed ceiling of his hotel room, hand on his chest, and it could have been for hours or days even, until the muffled sound of broken glass stirred him. Sesshoumaru sat up abruptly.

He crossed to the other side of the room to the trolley, where he poured himself a glass of wine. Then he drew the long curtains. He heard a vigorous chorus of chants, and watched the world outside from his tinted windows like a scene from a movie—the setting, a beautiful old town hijacked in chaos and anarchy, its actors the marching civilians storming through the streets damaged beyond recognition, the anti-riot police forced to employ arms.

Germany had just appointed their new Chancellor. It won’t be long before the fever infected the whole country, slowly spreading its disease towards its neighbouring friends.

One by one.

Sipping his wine, Sesshoumaru smiled.

* * *

Kagome roused in the night.

But that couldn't have been more far from the truth, for she barely slept at all.

She scurried out in the dark. Within seconds her hasty steps had brought her out of Jyohaku's house, her eyes quickly locked to her silver Lexus parked outside.

The car whirred out into the roads. Jyohaku blinked. He, too, hadn't been asleep.

* * *

A while later the priest found himself out in the quiet, chilly streets, glancing at his watch as he shifted uncomfortably in his own car.

Three fifteen. And what was he doing at three fifteen in the morning, tailing his wife as discreetly as possible—who, he might add, had suddenly decided to go AWOL in the night?

"Dammit," he groused, slowly turning right into an intersection, "couldn't your shenanigans have at least waited a week after our wedding night?”

Jyohaku knew where Kagome was going. From the directions she was taking, it was obvious she was heading home. He took special care to leave at least about twenty metres of distance between them, lest she saw him stalking her. Not that he had any explanation to do. It was hers that he was interested in.

Something was always up with her, but this...this took the cake, platter and all.

Her car stopped in front of the gate. Jyohaku slowed down to a crawl, about three houses away. He saw her figure appear to enter her mansion of a house.

He sat back as he bided his time, pulling his cigarettes out from a compartment. To his surprise Kagome exited within a few minutes, this time as she carried something into her car. It was too dark to make out the object in her arms. He trailed her again, his cigarette ash falling all over his lap, and he cursed under his breath as to what were his past wrongdoings to warrant his current fate.

Before he knew it, he was right at his mother’s house. Completely stupefied at this point, he chucked away his stick and infiltrated past the front door, left open in her apparent haste.

What Jyohaku discovered was _nothing_ beyond his imagination. Not even if he had thought of a thousand scenarios. His mind even dared to stray on the possibility of a secret affair.

No, this was worse. This was remotely—

In one room there was a large pentagram drawn on the floor, haphazardly shaped in a star in a symbol of ancient magic. At each point was arranged a mysterious object—an urn, a bowl of water, a rusty bell, a small branch entwined with red string, and a burning candle.

Hunched over in the middle of the pentagram was Kagome. A knife raised in her grip, its thick blade pointed towards the small animal laid before her.

Jyohaku didn't hear the sound that tore from his throat.

_**To be continued…** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger much! Dun dun dun...
> 
> Interesting notes: Seimei Kikyō, or the star Kagome drew is linked to the ancient practice of Onmyōdō, that deals with natural science and occultism. It's heavily influenced by Chinese philosophy, where the five elements must be represented on the pentagram, namely fire, wood, water, metal and earth. Practitioners of this art are also exorcists in their own right, and apart from dispelling spirits, are well-equipped to command their own. Onmyōdō was banned by the 19th century.


End file.
